


Too Tired to Wink

by TheUnforgiven



Series: Wandering Stars [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Nomad AU, he's a digital/global nomad if you want specifics, nomad!kuroo, tsukishima's in college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnforgiven/pseuds/TheUnforgiven
Summary: Kuroo and Tsukishima have been dating for several months, but somehow, Tsukishima has never seen Kuroo's apartment. He starts to get suspicious, and finally convinces Kuroo to let him see it.
What he finds is not at all what he expected. And what he finds will be the spark of a crossroads much bigger than he ever thought he would have to face.
Nomad!Kuroo AU





	1. Not All Who Wander are Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I've been working on this fic for quite awhile, so I'm glad I can finally post it! I didn't really want to give away the AU before you've read the first chapter, but you kinda have to know it to know whether you'll want to read the fic or not, right...? Sacrifices must be made.
> 
> Fic title comes from the Ludo song of the same name. It's an excellent song (by an excellent, quirky band), and I would encourage you all to give it a listen. I picked it for the title because the song reminds me of travelling, and I thought the main verse kinda fit the themes of this fic.
> 
> Anyway, this note is way too long. I hope you guys enjoy!

Kuroo was late. Again.

The man was somehow always perfectly on time to every event—except picking Tsukishima up from school. They met here after his classes got out most days of the week, and yet somehow, Kuroo was always fifteen minutes late. Tsukishima was starting to assume he did it on purpose, though he couldn’t fathom why.

Their usual meeting place was a remote corner of his college’s campus, behind a small cafe that was somehow almost always empty. Tsukishima could smell the coffee wafting over, and he was starting to seriously consider going in and buying a cup. He’d never actually had any there, despite it always being nearby. He glanced at his watch again. Maybe he’d make Kuroo buy one for him, once he finally arrived. Although, Kuroo liked doting on him too much for it to be a penalty for his tardiness. But at least Tsukishima would have coffee.

He was just thinking about giving into the impulse and going inside when he spotted the familiar mop of dark bedhead down the street. Tsukishima looked at his watch pointedly, staring at it and counting seconds until his boyfriend came to a stop in front of him and leaned over to peer at his face.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep doing that, you know.”

“You’re fifteen minutes late,” he said, looking up finally. It really had to be deliberate; it was always exactly fifteen minutes, almost to the second.

“Isn’t this the routine, though? Really, if you think about it, I’m on time.” Tsukishima’s only reply was his unimpressed face, Kuroo meeting it with his trademark grin. “So, we’re on for our Friday night date, then?” Tsukishima thought Kuroo’s eye waggling was a little excessive, but he deigned to answer him anyway, starting the walk to his apartment.

“Are we ever _not_ on for our Friday night date? We call it ‘Friday night date’ because we have one _every Friday night_.” Kuroo laughed and shrugged, following next to him.

“Well, you never know. Something might change one of these days.”

“Don’t forget it’s your turn to cook.” Kuroo stopped walking for a moment, a startled look on his face. “...you forgot, didn’t you?”

“...no.” Tsukishima gave a disbelieving hum.

“What are you planning to cook, then?”

“Uh—” He visibly scrambled for an answer. “Gyuudon?”

“You totally picked that just now.”

“Did not.”

“Did you buy beef then, Mr. Smartass?” The look on Kuroo’s face told him that he clearly hadn’t, and probably realizing that he’d have to get to the store before their date somehow, Kuroo finally gave up on his farce.

“Okay fine, I forgot.”

“As I thought,” Tsukishima remarked triumphantly. They started walking again.

“So do you want gyuudon then? I haven’t bought anything; we can have something else if you want.”

“Gyuudon’s fine.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t picked a movie yet.”

“And you were getting on _my_ case,” Kuroo grumbled.

“I had _school_. Not all of us can just lounge around the house all day.”

“I’m not lounging around! I’m working!”

“Sure you are.”

“I’m a _freelancer_ , Tsukki, which means I’m _free_ to stay at home and, uh... _lance_.”

“I think you’ve got something wrong there.”

“You’re just jealous because you have to go to _school_ ~” Kuroo teased him.

“Sure.”

“Ah come on, Tsukki! It’s no fun if you don’t fight back.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he returned with a smirk. “ _Anyway_. I have to go to the rental store, so I’ll do that while you’re getting the groceries.”

“Alright, sounds good. Should only take me about twenty minutes, so don’t take too long.” He swept in and planted a kiss on Tsukishima’s cheek before grinning and taking off, waving lazily. “I’ll meet you at your place!”

Tsukishima watched him go with a scandalized expression on his face, before finally turning and heading off towards the rental store.

* * *

 

Tsukishima started slightly at the sound of the doorbell, setting down the knife he was washing to go and see who it was, as though the answer wasn’t obvious. When he opened the door, Kuroo was standing there grinning, balancing a large box in one hand, and a plastic sack with a tacky yellow smiley face in the other.

“You could’ve just come in you know.”

“I know, but my hands are kind of full.” He presented the box to Tsukishima. “They had shortcake, so I bought one.”

“You didn’t have to...” Tsukishima said. He tried to sound serious, but he knew Kuroo could read his delight off his face.

“Nonsense! My beautiful Tsukki-chan deserves nothing less!” Kuroo swept dramatically past him and into the apartment, Tsukishima grabbing the cake box before the man accidentally flung it somewhere. It was carefully deposited on the counter, out of harm’s way, as Kuroo started pulling ingredients out of his bag. “Oh, you chopped the onion already, thanks.”

“I thought I’d do something while I was waiting.”

“If that’s a dig at me for taking too long I’m not listening.” Kuroo scooted him out of the way to pull out measuring cups and other utensils, and Tsukishima moved behind the counter and took a seat on one of the bar stools to watch him cook.

Kuroo was an excellent chef—Tsukishima rarely admitted this out loud, not wanting to stoke his ego too much—but he had this odd insistence on washing _everything_ he used right after he used it. Tsukishima supposed that was a good cooking habit to have, even if it seemed a little excessive, and he’d normally step in to wash so that Kuroo could focus on cooking. Today, however, he decided to let Kuroo handle it; gyuudon wasn’t a terribly messy dish, so he didn’t have to worry too much as he watched his boyfriend flit around the kitchen.

It didn’t take long until there was beef sizzling away in front of him, giving off a delicious aroma that made his stomach growl with embarrassing volume.

“Are you hungry, Tsukki?” Kuroo laughed. _Of course he heard that._ “Don’t worry, my little moonbeam, it will be done soon.”

“You can’t call me ‘little,’ I’m taller than you,” Tsukishima said, refusing to acknowledge the more embarrassing half of the nickname. Kuroo just laughed again.

“Your blush gives you away every time,” he said with faux seriousness, pointing his chopsticks at his boyfriend. Tsukishima feigned annoyance while Kuroo finished cooking and carefully scooped rice and beef into two bowls.

There was a substantial _thunk_ as Kuroo reached over the stove to set one of the bowls in front of him.

“ _Here you go!_ ” Kuroo said, seemingly attempting his best impression of a middle-aged ramen shop owner. Tsukishima gave him an unimpressed look, but Kuroo kept staring him down until he finally cracked and a tiny _pft_ escaped his mouth, which he quickly covered. “So you _can_ laugh!” Kuroo exclaimed, as though he had just made a major scientific discovery.

“Shut up,” Tsukishima said, pulling his bowl closer to him. Kuroo took the stool to his right.

“So, what movie did you pick?”

“ _The Emperor’s New Groove_.” Kuroo snorted.

“That movie’s like sixteen years old, how late to the party are you?”

“Like it’s not one of your favorite movies that you’ve been bothering me to watch forever.”

“That’s not the _point_ ,” Kuroo complained. Tsukishima just hummed noncommittally. “...it is a great movie though, you’re gonna love it.”

* * *

 

Kuroo talked through the whole thing, mostly to recite quotes and jokes as they came, and though it got a little annoying at times, Tsukishima didn’t mind too much. At some point, he had laid his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, and had ended up slowly scooting into him until he was nearly sitting in his lap. Kuroo had slung an arm around his shoulders, and Tsukishima was quite comfortable now and unwilling to move, even though the movie was over and he was getting a little too warm.

“So what’d you think?” He could hear his boyfriend’s grin.

“It was good.”

“Just _good_?” Tsukishima sighed.

“It was comedic genius, it’s ruined me for all other movies, I’ll never love again,” he deadpanned.

“So you _did_ like it.”

“You weren’t exaggerating all the excessive number of times you tried to get me to watch it at least.” Several moments passed in amicable silence. “Hey, Kuroo...”

“Hm?”

“Can we have our date at your place next time?” He tried to ask the question casually, but he still felt Kuroo’s almost imperceptible pause before he quickly bounced back and answered.

“I keep telling you, my place is really boring. There’s not much furniture and it’s not very comfortable.”

“Still, we’ve been dating for awhile and I haven’t seen your apartment even _once_. I don’t even know where it is.”

“It’s not a big deal babe, there’s nothing to see—” Tsukishima sat up and turned to fix him with a hard stare. Kuroo floundered for a moment before his mouth snapped shut.

“Kuroo. We’re having our date at your place next week,” he said firmly. Maybe if he couldn’t get his way by asking, he could get it by demanding.

“But—”

“No. We’re either having it at your place or not at all.” Kuroo seemed like he didn’t know what to say to that, and after a moment, he gave a resigned sigh.

“Fine...” The reluctance in his voice was almost palpable, and Tsukishima was surprised at how easy the victory had been.

* * *

“Hey,” Kuroo said. Tsukishima almost jumped.

“Hey.” He glanced at his watch. Kuroo was actually on time...? On a Friday, no less...?

“Did you get everything you need from the store?” Kuroo asked.

“Yes, did you get the movie?”

“Yeah.” They stood there, awkwardly staring at each other like they were about to duel.

“Well, are you going to lead the way or what?” Tsukishima asked. He looked a little annoyed while Kuroo looked nervous.

“Are you sure you got everything? We can stop at the store, it’s no big dea—”

“ _Kuroo_ ,” Tsukishima said firmly. “Let’s go.” Kuroo had a look on his face like he’d just been slapped; Tsukishima suddenly realized that this really must be a much bigger deal than he had initially thought, even if he didn’t know _why_ , and he quickly decided that it wasn’t worth whatever pain he was inflicting on his boyfriend. But before he could open his mouth to say so, Kuroo quietly turned and started walking. Tsukishima followed behind, trying not to get too concerned by his quietness.

They shuffled along in silence for about ten minutes before Kuroo turned towards the door of a small apartment complex, holding it open for Tsukishima to go in first. They walked into a simple lobby that had a wood desk that reminded Tsukishima of a cheap motel, as well as an old floral-print couch and a surprisingly modern wall clock. Behind the front desk was a small room with a large window, in which an elderly lady—Tsukishima assumed she was Kuroo’s landlord—was filing paperwork. Kuroo waved at her amicably as they passed, despite the still tense atmosphere, and the two of them strode through the lobby, past the elevator, and to a door off to the side that led into a stairwell.

They climbed two flights of stairs up to the third floor; there were just four apartments in total, two on each side. Kuroo walked down to the further apartment on the left—number 33, Tsukishima noted—and came to a stop. It seemed like he was trying to stall, but really he was just standing there, not getting his keys out or even pretending to look for them. Tsukishima was getting more worried by the second.

“Kuroo, if you really don’t want to do this, we can go back to my place. It’s alrigh—”

“No, no—it’s only fair. I should show you. I should...” He trailed off, seeming to be talking to himself as one hand was nervously jingling the keys in his pocket. “But, before we go in—”

“Kuroo, whatever it is, you don’t have to worry. I don’t know what you think could be so bad that you have to be this nervous about it.” Tsukishima shuffled the plastic bag around in his hands as he waited for any kind of response. Kuroo only frowned and finally pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door without another word.

Tsukishima waited with bated breath as it swung open on eerily silent hinges. Kuroo stepped inside and flipped the lights on.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, in what was probably supposed to be a joking tone.

For his part, Tsukishima didn’t think he’d be able to argue with the description; as he crossed the threshold and looked around, _humble_ was probably the nicest word he could have chosen to describe the place. It was in good repair, it was tidy and obviously freshly cleaned; the light smell of lemon-scented cleaner still hung in the air, even. There was nothing particularly _bad_ about it, it was just...

_Empty_.

He had walked into a rectangular living room, and he could count all the furniture he could see in front of him on one hand. Actually, he could almost count it all on one _finger_ ; there was just a small table pushed up against the right wall, a bouquet of flowers and a plate of fruit sitting on top, one folding chair the only other thing accompanying it. At the far end of the room, there was a sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony, which offered a single lounge-style lawn chair to add to the count. Tsukishima looked at Kuroo, confusion now adding to his concern, but the man only offered him a wry smile, beckoning him inside so he could close the door.

Tsukishima stepped forward and set his plastic bag on the puny dining table, eyeing the flowers and the fruit; from a distance, they had seemed legitimate enough, but the illusion quickly shattered when he realized the flowers were suspended in what was obviously a vase that came with them, and the fruits were sitting loosely on a plain dinner plate. Somehow, the plastic bag sitting next to them fit in perfectly and yet looked completely out of place, like this was just a badly decorated model house and adding anything to it would ruin the constructed image. The thought was reinforced in his mind when Kuroo immediately scooped up the bag and took it into the kitchen. Tsukishima followed after in a daze.

The open kitchen was directly adjacent to the door, off to the left of the living room. It was quite small and similarly sparse. It had all the fixed objects a person would expect a kitchen to have, like counters and a refrigerator and a stove, but other than that, it was empty of everything except a sponge and a bottle of soap. Tsukishima hoped that if he opened one of the cupboards he would find _something_ inside, even if it was just a forgotten plastic bowl or a moldy potato.

He was aware of some unidentified gravity to the situation, but it felt like his legs were moving on autopilot, bringing him back into the living room and to the next door on the left. He glanced inside what was apparently a bathroom; just like the kitchen, it was empty but for the fixed objects one would expect to be in it, but Tsukishima felt some comfort in the fact that, reasonably, there had to at least be a toothbrush and some toothpaste in one of the little cabinets. His feet carried him to the last door and into Kuroo’s bedroom, concern and curiosity completely overtaking what manners he had.

He wasn’t surprised by what he saw when he flipped on the light. There was a collapsible hamper in the corner directly in front of him, half full of Kuroo’s dirty clothes. In the corner to his right, a laptop sat solemnly on the floor. The only other thing in the room was a futon, which had been neatly folded and placed next to the laptop.

If someone asked Tsukishima to describe the apartment he had just stepped into, the only thing he would be able to say would be _“blank.”_ Or maybe, _“suspiciously blank.”_ He had no idea what to make of it, aside from his vague feeling of unease.

He wandered slowly back to the kitchen, feeling a little overwhelmed. By now, Kuroo had put the groceries in the fridge and was standing in the middle of the room looking quite lost, prompting Tsukishima to break the terrible silence.

“Well, I can say this much; you never lied.” Kuroo sighed, sagging visibly as though he had only been held up by a tension that had suddenly vacated him, leaving him limp and tired.

“I told you it wasn’t worth seeing. It’s not comfortable.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Kuroo sighed again. “What’s the deal? You were obviously worried about how I’d react to this. Are you on the run or something?”

“No.”

“Are you expecting to be?”

“No...”

“Do you just... not make much money?”

“No.” Tsukishima finally stopped, simply looking at Kuroo.

“Then... what is it?” Kuroo sighed again.

“Would you—would you sit down with me for a minute?”

“Where?” Tsukishima asked dryly.

“I don’t know, wherever you want.”

Tsukishima turned to go into the living room, and deciding he didn’t want to take the only chair, sat down next to the right wall. Kuroo joined him. The tense silence lasted for several moments.

“You know how, when we first started dating, I told you that I don’t usually get into serious relationships?”

“And I told you I didn’t either.”

“Right. I guess this has gone on longer than either of us expected.” He forced a laugh. “But, the reason I don’t get into serious relationships is because I never stay in one place for very long.” He took a breath. “My family is nomadic, so I grew up moving from place to place constantly, and... I still do. I tried to stop and stay in one place when I first started living on my own, but... it turns out it’s not really that simple to change a lifetime’s worth of habit.” He paused, running a hand through his messy hair. “I try not to get into relationships because I don’t want to hurt people when I have to leave, but I really liked you. I _still_ really like you, and—”

“You didn’t want me to see this, because you didn’t want me to know,” Tsukishima finished coldly.

“I didn’t want you to think our time together had an expiration date,” Kuroo corrected.

“But doesn’t it?” Tsukishima looked over at him. Kuroo looked torn, and finally he broke eye contact.

“I wish I could say it didn’t.”

“Then why can’t you stay?” Tsukishima’s voice was cold and unemotional, and Kuroo looked all the more upset because of it.

“I just can’t. Sooner or later, I always start getting antsy. I’ll get restless and anxious and depressed, and if I don’t do something about it... things get bad.” Tsukishima admittedly didn’t know what to say.

“How long do you have?” Kuroo sighed.

“The longest I’ve managed is three years, but... most of the time, I barely make it past one.” Tsukishima’s brain took that moment to helpfully remind him that they’d been dating for eight months.

“So you’ll be leaving me.”

“Look, Tsukki—”

“If you’re going to leave, if it’s inevitable, we might as well give up now.” He knew his words stung; they stung him too as they left his mouth. He could see Kuroo’s heartbroken expression in the corner of his eye, but he pointedly didn’t look at it.

“Tsukki, _I promise_ , it’s not as bad as it seems—” Tsukishima stood up suddenly, turning away.

“You’ve never tried to stay together with someone after you leave, have you? How would you know?” His voice was still cold and hard and foreign, even to him. “If you want to leave so badly, then leave. I won’t try to stop you.”

He didn’t wait for a reply; he walked over to the doorway, slipped his feet into his shoes, opened the door, and disappeared down the hall without a single glance back.

Kuroo didn’t try to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"But look at all the stars! We've come so far, even if we don't know where we are, it's gotta be somewhere great..._   
>  _...or am I just too tired to wink?"_


	2. The Things One Can't Live Without

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! We've sure been blessed with a very pretty Tsukishima these first few episodes for this season.
> 
> This chapter is from Kuroo's point of view! It's probably going to be the only one from his point of view, so enjoy it while it lasts.

_Kuroo speeds through the train station, running as fast as his legs will carry him, pushing random bystanders and tourists out of the way as he goes. Desperation sharply colors all of his movements, until, with one final sweep, the platform opens up in front of him._

_Across that vast distance, and through that sea of people, Kuroo’s inhuman consciousness focuses on a single point; a tall man with ruffled blond hair, stepping up towards the doors of the train. Kuroo jolts forward once more, racing towards the man, calling out—_

_The man stops, he turns; Kuroo can hear the dull sound of his suitcase rolling, the jingling of a karabiner on his backpack as his grip tightens on one of the straps, and slowly, so slowly, their eyes meet. Kuroo can feel all of his emotions bleeding through the cracks in his face. The man’s is a mask behind the frames of his glasses._

_“I’m sorry.” He sees the man’s mouth open more than he hears the words themselves. “I have to go.” Kuroo feels his own mouth move, saying “Wait,” but the sound doesn’t reach his ears._

_Kuroo digs into his pocket, then his loose fist stretches out, hovering between them; if there is nothing else he can give, he has to give this. The man looks down at it, confusion gently gracing his features. He offers his pale hand, and Kuroo deposits his heart there—a tiny paper star, red with simple cat faces. The man regards it for a moment before he gently encloses it in his fist, a sad smile playing about his mouth._

_Then, without another word, he turns and steps onto the train. Kuroo tries to wave goodbye as the doors slide shut;_

_But Tsukishima isn’t looking at him._

* * *

Kuroo woke up in a cold sweat, sprawled out on top of his futon with his blanket twisted up and half thrown off his body. He stared at the ceiling for several long moments, his breath hanging in his throat, before the sensation of chilled air on his skin jolted his lungs back into motion. All of a sudden he was painfully aware of his heart racing in his chest, of his eyes blinking feebly to try and make the scene in front of him come into focus. He could feel the messy hair plastered to his forehead, he could feel his fingers grasping weakly at the floor of their own accord, and all of it was too much for him.

He wrestled his blanket the rest of the way off and hurriedly stumbled into his bathroom, not bothering to flick on the light in the dim glow of the morning. He caught his haggard reflection in the mirror above the sink, dark, heavy eyes meeting his. He quickly looked away.

A shower seemed to be just the thing he needed, and indeed his shower seemed overwhelmingly inviting, so he pulled off his sweat-soaked boxers and tossed them vaguely towards the floor before stepping in and tiredly beginning his usual battle with the shower handle. It took a little persuading, but after a moment it gave, stuttering to life and sending freezing water cascading onto his head. He didn’t bother to fix it, tugging his fingers through his sopping hair to slick it away from his eyes as he tried to come properly back to his senses.

He had screwed up. He had _really_ screwed up. When Tsukishima left, Kuroo had stared at the closing door—stared at the closed door—absolutely paralyzed. The clichéd metaphor of that door had struck him, monstrously juxtaposed into his life as it was, and Kuroo had found himself completely unable to move or think. When Tsukishima had been there, still standing in front of him, he had felt worried, sad—he had felt the forebears of disaster. But now it was over, now it was settled, and he only felt...

_Empty._

Something had quietly broken inside of him, had vacated his form with a silence that was all but obscured by the sharp static in his ears. Once the static had cleared, he felt the reality of it come crashing down on him, as though the foundation of his life had been built from cracked bricks that had finally given way under his feet.

And then, that dream...

Kuroo had always known that his lifestyle could be hard on others; he made friends only to have to leave, time and time again. He often stayed in contact, but the sharp pain of departure from them never lost its freshness.

But there was something that he realized in his myriad years—he was always the one to leave, never the one left behind. Just a day ago, he couldn’t possibly have hoped to understand what that meant to all the people he had met in his life, but now—

Now he had stood on the other side of the closing door. Now, he understood what it meant.

Kuroo turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, rubbing his tangled hair with his towel before wrapping it loosely around his waist. The tiredness still clung to his eyes; he knew it was early, but he hadn’t thought to check the time and he didn’t plan to. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore, he opted to head for his kitchen instead.

_Those damn flowers._ Kuroo had forgotten about them until he passed them by, but now they stared him down, bending over their little vase to lean their faces closer to him. Kuroo had been quite anxious when he bought them, overwhelmed as he was, but the florist had been more than happy to bridge the silence while wrapping up the flowers he had picked mostly at random. _She told me the name of those purple ones, what was it...?_ He struggled to remember. _Michaelmas Daisies...?_

He stared at them, eyes narrowing in frustration. It didn’t matter what type of flowers they were, did it? All he remembered was that he had bought them hoping that they would be reassuring to Tsukishima; the blond’s face had been, as always, difficult to read, but Kuroo knew it hadn’t worked. It might even have made the situation worse, but he had no way to be sure. Now he wanted only to dump the stupid things in the trash, but with a helpless thought of _what’s the point_ , he only quietly passed them and continued into the kitchen.

The universe was apparently determined to torture him to its utmost ability, because the only things in his fridge were the ingredients for the dinner Tsukishima had been planning to make last night, which Kuroo hadn’t been able to bring himself to make in his absence. He still didn’t want to make it, or even use the ingredients at all. Conceding with a sigh that he wasn’t even really hungry yet, he shut the fridge.

He leaned heavily on his palms against the counter, staring down at the cheap tiles. This wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t do anything in this state of mind, so he resolved to drag himself into motion and do the one thing that he knew had a chance of clearing it.

He went for a walk.

The sun was just barely clearing the horizon when he stepped out the front door of his apartment building, tugging his sweatshirt on in the brisk morning air. This time of day always reminded him of setting off to a new destination, and the nostalgia that came to him carried the sting of the wind with it, now.

He allowed himself to sink into that pain slowly, like wading into a frigid pool, and set off walking in a random direction. As his feet met the pavement, jarringly at first, he coerced the fresh, painful memories up into his conscious thoughts. They didn’t resist.

He thought of Tsukishima’s face, Tsukki’s beautiful face, and the ever so slight contortion of his features that distress brought him. He thought of Tsukishima’s fingers laced together idly in his lap in a silent expression of worry.

His steps slowly smoothed into a rhythm, and he carefully replayed Tsukishima’s cold words. They had already relentlessly repeated themselves in his head a million times since the previous night when he had heard them, but he forced himself to play them slower, forced himself to listen to each one in turn.

_“You didn’t want me to see this, because you didn’t want me to know.”_ Tsukishima had stared at the floor in front of him. Kuroo had watched each syllable drip like molasses from his lips.

_“I didn’t want you to think our time together had an expiration date.”_

_“But doesn’t it?”_ Tsukishima’s face had been blank, a mask, but his eyes were dark. Kuroo hadn’t been able to tell whether it was anger or sadness, or something else entirely, and he had looked away.

_“I wish I could say it didn’t.”_

_“Then why can’t you stay?”_ Kuroo hadn’t been able to bring himself to look again, and those cold words tugged at him. Tsukishima’s fingers had twitched anxiously in the periphery of his vision.

_“I just can’t. Sooner or later, I always start getting antsy. I’ll get restless and anxious and depressed, and if I don’t do something about it... things get bad.”_

_“How long do you have?”_ Kuroo had wanted so desperately to lie, but he had known that Tsukishima’s piercing gaze would see right through him in a second.

_“The longest I’ve managed is three years, but... most of the time, I barely make it past one.”_

_“So you’ll be leaving me_. _”_

_“Look, Tsukki—” It’s not what I want._

_“If you’re going to leave, if it’s inevitable, we might as well give up now.”_

_“Tsukki, I promise, it’s not as bad as it seems—”_ _It doesn’t mean we have to give up._

_“You’ve never tried to stay together with someone after you leave, have you? How would you know?”_

_I’ve never tried, and I don’t know, but I want to. I want to try for you._

_“If you want to leave so badly, then leave. I won’t try to stop you.”_

_I wish I had tried to stop_ you _._

By the time Kuroo had come back to himself, he barely recognized his surroundings. There were other people out on the street by this time, beginning their days as he grappled with tragedy.

He stopped at a street corner and stared out into the morning, thinking about one Tsukishima Kei. He thought about all the time they had spent together. He thought about all the little quirks he had come to love. He thought about that sharp wit and embarrassed affection.

Then, he urged himself back into motion, swinging around a lamppost, and started walking back the way he came, once again sure of the things that he couldn’t live without.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Aster amellus_ , common name _Michaelmas Daisy_  
>  A perennial daisy that comes in many colors. “Aster” means “star-shaped flower,” and daisies of this genus are the birth flower for the month of September. In Victorian times, this particular daisy’s meaning was “farewell.” In modern times, meaning isn’t really assigned to individual types of daisies, but daisies in general mean “innocence,” “true love,” and “new beginnings.”


	3. Simplicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this weird relationship with coffee where it doesn’t make me any less tired but I still crave it when I’m tired anyway. I guess it’s more of a comfort drink? All I can say is thank god I’m really cheap because I’ve already spent too much money this semester just buying McD’s ice coffee.......
> 
> Anyway, hello everyone, I hope you all had an awesome Halloween! It's my favorite holiday, so I decided to finish up and post the next chapter to celebrate. And thank you to everyone who’s commented/left kudos/subscribed so far! I’m trying to keep a somewhat regular update schedule for this fic, but no promises, haha. For this chapter: Yamaguchi finally makes his appearance, as promised in the tags!

Tsukishima was really not doing well with his classes this week. He was so horribly tired he was barely able to keep his head open in his lecture classes, much less keep his eyes open the whole time. And on top of that, he’d forgotten more than one assignment that he then had had to stay up ludicrously late finishing the night before it was due. He couldn’t remember a single moment that he didn’t have a cup of shitty instant coffee within arm’s reach, and he still had two more days to go before the weekend.

And it was all absolutely _not_ because he had been plagued by thoughts of one _Kuroo Tetsurou_ for the past six days. He was just tired. So, _so_ , unbelievably tired.

At the moment, he was sitting in his lecture hall, waiting for Yamaguchi to arrive and for his 8 AM class to start. He at least didn’t have too long on Yamaguchi at least; he saw the messy brunet hair bobbing into the room and up the stairs, and it was only a moment before his friend was standing beside him, wearing a concerned look that Tsukishima knew meant he was probably going to be scolded for something soon.

“You’re not looking too good, Tsukki...” Yamaguchi evidently decided to start his scolding gently, his usual chipper morning self completely missing. He bent down to get a better look at Tsukishima’s face, resting on the table in front of them.

“I’m fine,” Tsukishima said automatically.

“Sure you are,” Yamaguchi returned disbelievingly. “I haven’t seen you without a coffee cup in your hand all week.”

“This is an 8 AM class,” Tsukishima said bitterly, grip tightening on the paper cup sitting between his fingers on the table.

“Yeah, and this,” Yamaguchi gestured at Tsukishima. “Is a troubled mess.” The blond frowned but didn’t try to deny it. “Come on, Tsukki, you usually at least take the time to make _good_ coffee. Something’s obviously wrong, so why won’t you just tell me what it is?”

“I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired. We’re _all_ always tired. You’re still acting weird.” The frown on Tsukishima’s face deepened minutely more. Yamaguchi finally settled down into the seat to his right, pulling his textbook and pencil case out of his backpack. “You know, if it’s about Kuroo—”

“ _It’s not about Kuroo_.” Tsukishima inwardly flinched at the speed of his response.

“It’s _totally_ about Kuroo, you didn’t even let me _finish_ my _sentence_.” Yamaguchi pulled out his notebook, clearly trying to appear nonchalant but fidgeting just a little too much to make it believable. “Did you guys have a fight or something?” Tsukishima sighed and pulled his head up off the desk, squinting down towards the front of the room.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Yamaguchi sighed.

“When do you ever want to talk about anything...?” He didn’t get the chance to scold Tsukishima further, as the professor finally arrived and started the class early. He did, however, take the chance to pass a little note halfway through the lecture:

_Talking about it will help._

Tsukishima pretended he didn’t see it.

 

* * *

 

 Tsukishima soon realized—much to his chagrin—that he was probably going to have to talk about it. Two more days barely conquered, and it was the weekend finally; but he was still no closer to splitting the emotional atom that was his relationship with Kuroo. Or whatever remained of it, he supposed; Neither of them had made any definite declarations.

He alternated between feeling indescribably bitter and unbearably guilty, but at the end of the day, neither emotion brought him any closer to a conclusion about what exactly he was supposed to do, and his tired mind was nearly completely out of auxiliary power to devote to the issue.

Tsukishima stared down at the mug in his hand, trying to blink away the fog that had taken over his mind for the millionth time this week. It was Saturday morning, and instead of sleeping in or looking forward to a day of fun activities, he was in his kitchen at ten-thirty, sipping too-bitter coffee like he had been doing for the past four hours and wondering why his eyes felt so dry, as though the answer wasn’t obvious.

Finally, after staring into the black abyss of his coffee for longer than he thought was entirely necessary, he set his mug down on the counter with a sigh, grabbed his mailbox key, and wandered out of his apartment to get his mail. He didn’t bother to change out of his pajamas and slippers before leaving, because it was _Saturday_ and he absolutely _did_ _not_ care. Who needed proper shoes when you weren’t going to outside anyway?

As he descended the stairs, he wondered absentmindedly about what he should have for breakfast. His thoughts drifted from food to food, and before he knew it, they had wandered straight back to Kuroo, wondering about what he was having for breakfast. Tsukishima knew he had to be eating right about now, as the man never got up before at least ten on any given day. The thought of Kuroo’s probably empty cupboards sent a sharp stab through Tsukishima’s mind, though he reasoned with himself that the man must own at least _one_ pan. He knew he owned a plate, at least; he had seen it, holding the fruits that might as well have been plastic.

By the time he got to wondering how Kuroo got so good at cooking, he had finally arrived at the block of mailboxes in the lobby. He quickly found his and unlocked it, sighing with dismay upon seeing that the mailperson had once again slid his mail as far back in the box as possible. He stuck his hand in slowly, carefully drawing it out (he never forgot about _that time_ ), before shoving it under his arm and locking the box back up.

He shuffled slowly back up the stairs, flipping through the letters as he went. Advertisement, bill, another bill—it was just as he’d expected. He shoved it back under his arm as he went to step back into his apartment.

He nearly had a heart attack when a foot suddenly wedged itself between the door and the wall as he was closing it.

“Tsukki!” He took a deep breath, forcing his brain to register the voice, and the tattered striped socks he recognized.

“Yamaguchi, just what are you trying to do?” He slowly opened the door again, and his friend removed his foot from the entryway.

“Are you trying to ignore me!?” He sounded oddly angry.

“What are you talking—”

“I saw you in the lobby but you just walked right past me! And I just got off the elevator here and you walked past me again, even though I called out to you!” Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You did?”

“Tsukki—” Tsukishima held up a hand.

“Do you want to at least come inside before accosting me?” Yamaguchi sheepishly followed Tsukishima as he led the way into his apartment, but his fierce expression quickly returned. Tsukishima recognized this one as his “determined” face, another which did not spell good things for him. He slapped the mail onto the table and picked up his coffee from where he had left it, waiting for Yamaguchi to scold him. It took several long moments.

“Tsukki...”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” Tsukishima heeded the look on his friend’s face and chose not to say anything. Yamaguchi sighed. “Alright, that’s it. You’re coming with me.”

“What?” Tsukishima raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been moping all week! So I’m fixing this whether you like it or not!”

“I have not been _moping_ ,” Tsukishima said with distaste.

“Yes, you have! You’re miserable! It’s not even a school day and you still have a death grip on your coffee!” Tsukishima paused halfway through the motion of taking a sip. “You were so absorbed in your thoughts you completely didn’t notice me just now, and you’re not even wearing your headphones!”

“What’s your point?”

“My _point_ is; get dressed. I’m taking you out.” Tsukishima glared quietly, knowing that Yamaguchi wouldn’t leave now without him in tow.

“... _fine_.” He coldly dropped his mug on the counter and headed into his bedroom to get dressed.

 

* * *

 

 “So, what do you want to do?” Yamaguchi asked sweetly.

“You tell me. You’re the one who dragged me out here.” The two of them stood outside of Tsukishima’s apartment building, arms folded against the chilly morning air.

“How about breakfast? I’ll buy.”

“...alright.” Yamaguchi was beaming, all traces of his previous determination tucked away as they both silently turned towards their favorite café and started walking.

“So.” Tsukishima really _did not_ like that look— “What happened between you and Kuroo?” Tsukishima sighed pointedly.

“Can’t you at least wait until we get there?”

“No, because you’re going to order strawberry pancakes, and then as soon as they arrive, you’ll use them as an excuse to stuff your face and not talk.” Tsukishima refused to respond. “ _So_ , what happened between you and Kuroo?”

“...it’s like you thought. We had a fight.” Yamaguchi nodded sagely.

“I see, I see. Well don’t worry, Tsukki, Counselor Yamaguchi is on the case!” Tsukishima rolled his eyes as his friend did a mock salute. “What did you fight about?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“We’ve got time.” They finally arrived at the café and stepped inside. It was surprisingly empty for prime breakfast time on a Saturday, but Yamaguchi still led them to their favorite table after they had placed their orders. It was secluded off in a corner, far enough away from other patrons that they wouldn’t be casually overheard, and Tsukishima was grateful for at least that much kindness.

“Alright,” Yamaguchi started again. “What did you fight about? Start from the top.” Tsukishima sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Look, even if I _wanted_ to tell you, it involves some of Kuroo’s personal information. I don’t think it’s fair.”

“So you still care about his privacy, that’s a good start! But really Tsukki, I think he’d understand. I’m kind of your best friend. Arguably your only friend half the time.”

“ _Hey_.”

“Sorry, Tsukki. If it makes you feel better, I promise I won’t tell him you relied on me for relationship guidance.”

“You’re not helping your case here,” Tsukishima replied bitterly. But he did pause and think about it. If Yamaguchi said he wouldn’t tell, then he definitely wouldn’t, Tsukishima could trust that much. Still, it felt a little wrong to violate Kuroo’s privacy, even to just one person and with good reason (if Yamaguchi’s opinion of the matter meant anything).

“ _Come on_ , Tsukki!” Seeing that his friend was about to burst at the seams, Tsukishima spoke.

“He’s... going to move away.” It was vague, but it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh.” That seemed to finally give Yamaguchi pause. “Sorry, Tsukki. Where’s he going?”

“I... don’t know.” Tsukishima admitted.

“You didn’t ask?”

“The situation wasn’t right.”

“Ah. Well, _when_ is he going to go?” Tsukishima didn’t really want to admit he wasn’t sure on that point either. Especially when he was fairly certain Kuroo himself didn’t know the answer for sure.

“I don’t... know...” Now Yamaguchi looked truly exasperated.

“You fought about it but you barely know what’s actually going on?”

“It’s more than that!” Tsukishima said indignantly.

“Then _explain_. I said _‘from the top.’_ That means _everything_.” Tsukishima frowned and looked away as one of the café employees brought their food. As soon as the delicious smell of strawberry pancakes hit his nose, he suddenly realized how hungry he was and desperately wanted to eat the whole stack in one bite.

Before he could so much as cut a piece off from the stack, however, the plate was yanked out from in front of him at shocking speed.

“Nope! No pancakes for you until I get a real answer.”

“You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“Try me.” Yamaguchi’s glare almost rivaled Tsukishima’s, the plate held securely out of reach. Well, Tsukishima could probably _reach_ it, but he was sure the pancakes would be spilled all over the table before he successfully managed to wrestle it back.

“...fine. Give me my pancakes.”

“Tell me first _._ ” Tsukishima almost growled, the frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

“ _He lied to me_ ,” he started, voice low and dangerous. “He was planning to leave this whole time but he _never_ _told me_.” That finally made Yamaguchi’s look soften.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“The whole time we’ve been dating. He knew he was going to move away but he never said anything until _a week ago_. And that was only because I _forced_ him to!”

“You’re going to have to explain a little better, Tsukki...” Tsukishima took a deep breath and exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to control the mounting anger.

“Last Friday, we had a date. We always have dates on Fridays. One of us makes dinner, the other picks a movie. But we always had it at my apartment. _Always_. I had never seen Kuroo’s place even _once_ , and we’ve been dating for _eight months_.”

“Okay... So I’m guessing you finally saw it?” Tsukishima nodded curtly.

“Every time I would ask to go to his place, he would come up with some excuse to refuse, but two weeks ago, I finally got him to agree. And last week, I finally saw it.”

“I’m not really understanding how this relates—” Tsukishima held up a hand.

“He took me to his apartment. He seemed really anxious or nervous or _something_ , so I offered to let him out of it, but then _he_ insisted.” Tsukishima found his tone slowly softening as he spoke, sounding just a little foreign to him. “He was acting really strange... We finally went inside and his apartment... it was just _empty_. There was barely anything in it.”

“Huh?”

“There was a table and a chair in the living room. Just one of each. He had a deck chair on the balcony. That was _it_. All the furniture he owns amounts to two folding chairs and a table. And even besides that, he barely had anything _else_ in there, either! There was a laundry hamper, a futon, and a laptop, and it’s not like I looked in the cabinets but I’m sure there wasn’t much in there either—”

“Tsukki! Slow down a little. What does this have to do with him moving?” Tsukishima took what felt like his millionth deep breath of the morning.

“He’s a nomad.”

“...what?” Now Yamaguchi looked truly confused.

“A nomad. Apparently his whole family is nomadic, and he grew up moving all over the place. And apparently, if he stays in one place for too long, he’ll get anxious and depressed. So basically, he knew this whole time that he was going to leave, but he never told me. He tried to _hide it_ from me.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi finally relinquished the pancakes he had been holding hostage and Tsukishima cut a huge bite out of them, chewing aggressively just to fill the awkward silence. “So what happened then? After he told you?” Tsukishima’s heart immediately sank. He stared at his fork.

“I... I got angry. And then I left.”

“ _Tsukki_...”

“Don’t look at me like that! He had _no right_ to lie to me for so long!” Yamaguchi was silent for a moment, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Okay, you’re not going to like this, but hear me out; you said he was really nervous when he took you to his apartment, right?” Tsukishima nodded, taking another bite of his pancakes. “I know you probably think it was because he was worried about being caught in his lie, but I know Kuroo... and I think it’s more likely he was worried about scaring you.”

“So what?” The truth was that Kuroo’s expression at that moment had haunted Tsukishima, but in the face of Yamaguchi’s scrutiny, he suddenly felt defensive.

“ _So what_ is that I don’t think he was trying to be malicious. I mean, I don’t know everything so I can’t give you the perfect answer, but I think it’s far more likely that he’s just head over heels for you and didn’t want you to think that you were just some fling or something.” Tsukishima scoffed.

“Or he just didn’t want to deal with—”

“Oh my god, _listen_ to me you absolute _idiot!_ ” Tsukishima was more than a little taken aback, but couldn’t figure out how to respond before Yamaguchi continued. “Have you _seen_ the way he looks at you? The only way that man could even hurt a _fly_ is if he teased it to death, and he looks at you like you’re Tsukuyomi incarnate. I _know_ that you know he didn’t want to hurt you, even if you can’t face it right now.”

“I—”

“ _Look_ , I’m not going to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do. Even though I probably should. But I think we both know you’re only going to regret this later if you don’t do something _now_. And even if he’s going to move away, it’s not like you can’t have a long distance relationship. You two have the stuff to make it work.” Tsukishima sighed in defeat.

“I know.” He paused, realizing he hadn’t actually considered it before that exact moment. “But usually long distance relationships are temporary. He’s always going to be moving around, and I don’t want to try and suffer through that,” he finally added.

“Would you rather say goodbye forever?” Yamaguchi asked pointedly. Tsukishima couldn’t answer. “I know it’s hard, but you don’t need to figure it all out immediately. You should at least talk to him again. I’m sure he’s suffering too, so don’t let him leave before you’ve settled it, no matter what the outcome is.” Tsukishima was silent for several moments, his thoughts buzzing quietly away in his head.

“I... I was kind of an asshole, wasn’t I?”

“Probably. But that’s what apologies are for. And I think you both have some to give.” Tsukishima took a small bite of his pancakes.

“...you should be a therapist.” Yamaguchi smiled.

“I try.”

 

* * *

 

 After Yamaguchi let the conversation move to different topics and they both finished their food, they walked back to Tsukishima’s apartment in the late morning air. Yamaguchi saw him to his door, gave him an encouraging thumbs up, and finally went on his way.

As soon as he got inside, Tsukishima took off his coat and tossed it onto a chair, plopping down next to it with an exhausted sigh. He knew he had to do something to fix this mess, but he also knew that _deciding_ to do something and _actually doing it_ were two very different things, the latter requiring a set of skills that he did not possess in this particular instance.

Yamaguchi had managed to remind him, in that special way that only he could, that the problem he was currently facing was more or less a common and fairly trivial one. It was maybe a little bit more complex than most, but the core of it was the same.

Really, when he removed himself and Kuroo from the equation, it became a lot easier. His naturally calculating mind moved in to fill the gap, reminding him that there were options and that this was hardly the end of the world. Separations were rarely permanent, and like Yamaguchi said, long distance relationships were possible, in some way or another.

But when he let himself wander back into the problem, when he let Kuroo waltz back in, everything changed. Then he felt worried and sick, and that same calculating mind started suggesting all the things that could go wrong, started coming up with all the worst possibilities and scenarios, and then started happily presenting them to him in stunning high definition. Yamaguchi had destroyed his anger, but that only left him with despair.

Taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts, Tsukishima picked up the mail he had retrieved earlier, flipping through the small stack again for a distraction. An advertisement and two bills—it was just as he’d left it. He was about to toss them into his to-do pile and try to find something else to distract himself when he noticed he had missed one; a small, cream-colored envelope that had been hidden under the rest of the stack. It was obviously addressed by hand, a fact which momentarily confused Tsukishima. He was disoriented by the fancy handwriting, thinking that it had probably been delivered to the wrong box, but as he looked, he was slowly able to discern the text.

Perfectly centered on the envelope were his name and address, written in crisp black ink, and in the corner, there was Kuroo’s, just as neat and impossibly perfect. He nearly dropped it on reflex, completely dumbfounded.

Whatever might be contained in the envelope, Tsukishima wasn’t entirely sure he really wanted to know. He frowned and stared at it, thumbs gently rubbing the paper as he weighed his options. He knew he couldn’t just throw it away. It was too late for that, though he realized with a shudder that if Yamaguchi hadn’t gotten to him before he had seen it, he might have. He could, however, put it down somewhere and read it when he was feeling a little more emotionally stable.

After several moments had stretched off into eternity, the apprehension and curiosity overcame him, and he quickly retrieved a pair of scissors to slice it open.

Inside, there was a single, neatly-folded paper, which he gingerly unfolded, holding it with just the tips of his fingers. The writing on it was just as ornate as what was on the envelope, and Tsukishima couldn’t help but admire it for a moment before he took a deep breath and started reading.

 

> _Tsukishima,_
> 
> _First, I want to apologize for not telling you sooner. It was wrong of me to keep this from you, even if it was with good intentions._
> 
> _Second, I know it might seem a little odd to be sending you a letter in this day and age, but it’s something of a family tradition—my mother always said “letters are the language of love.” I guess, when you move around so much that you rarely meet in person, a letter means a lot. We’ve got texting and email now, but there’s something about letters... Maybe it’s just me._
> 
> _Anyway, besides an overdue apology, I wanted you to know—if I leave, it doesn’t mean that I won’t ever return. I’m always restless, and unfortunately that means I have to keep on the move, but if I stay away for awhile, things always seem fresh when I come back. I was born in Tokyo, it was the place where I was able to stay for those three years; even if I’m gone for a long time, I’ll always find my way back._
> 
> _If you still want to break up, I will of course respect that, but I don’t think that we have to give up here. You’re important to me, and I’m willing to try and make this work if you are._
> 
> _\------_
> 
> _They say “home is where the heart is...” My heart is probably everywhere, but, most importantly, my heart is with you._
> 
> _-Kuroo_
> 
> _P.S. Take your time. When you have your answer, you’ll know how to tell me._

 

Tsukishima stared at the signature for several long moments, extremely aware of his own breathing. The paper in his hands felt alive, like a beating heart—so fragile but so strong. And just like it, he could feel himself faltering under its weight, only to be carried back up by a new realization.

Kuroo had bridged the gap first. Had he known that Tsukishima had wanted to, but hadn’t known how? He couldn’t shake the feeling that Kuroo had pried him open at some point; he had wormed his way between Tsukishima’s ribs and made himself at home there, and Tsukishima had been none the wiser until this moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe there was something special about letters; Kuroo’s had laid plain everything that Tsukishima had been too afraid to accept, and had done it so simply that any desire to deny or reject had instantly faded. His words sat feather-light on the paper, but their weight continued to burn Tsukishima’s fingers.

A letter...

Was it really always that simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don’t know, Tsukuyomi/Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto is the god of the Moon in the Shinto religion and in Japanese mythology. I was originally going to say “Artemis incarnate,” but all things considered I thought this might be a more appropriate choice!
> 
> Comments are, as always, appreciated!!


	4. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the letters were originally going to be their own chapter, but the small section of the beginning just felt too short as its own chapter, so I decided to combine them. So this will be the semi-epistolary chapter, I guess!
> 
> Anyway, sorry this one's a bit late! It required a lot more editing than the previous ones, and with all the stuff that happened this last week... it was a bit hard to focus. I hope you guys are all doing alright! Please enjoy.

Tsukishima had always been sure of one thing about Kuroo; he made everything look much easier than it actually was. And once again, he was being proven right.

The paper on the table had been staring back at him, burning white into his eyes for far longer than he dared to try and quantify, but it was still frustratingly blank. The pen in his hand twitched and tapped, but refused to make words.

He had a million things he wanted to say, a million things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t put them in any semblance of order. He couldn’t make them commit themselves to that paper, and it seemed the longer he stared, the more overwhelmed he felt by the very idea of trying to.

Kuroo had bridged the gap first, and Tsukishima wanted to cross, wanted to meet him halfway, but once again, he didn’t know how. He was afraid of falling into the river raging beneath his feet.

Finally, he sighed, setting the pen down and rubbing at his eyes. No amount of forcing was going to make this happen right now, obviously. He needed to try something else.

“Face it, Kei, you don’t know how to deal with _emotions_ ,” he muttered to himself. “It’d be easier if you just pretended to be someone else.”

Tsukishima blinked. The disparaging comment reminded him of something—the problem had seemed trivial when he had removed himself and Kuroo from it. It wasn’t that he was trying to _ignore_ the problem, but it was clear he wasn’t ready for this yet. He wasn’t ready to cross the bridge—but he could at least send his letter ahead to make sure Kuroo knew he wanted to.

As though everything had neatly clicked into place, Tsukishima picked up his pen again, and his hand started moving on its own.

 

> _Kuroo,_
> 
> _I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at this._
> 
> _Yamaguchi dragged me out this morning and made me talk (sorry), but he bought me pancakes. And I guess, he made me realize something important. But even though that’s true... I don’t know how to move forward._
> 
> _I’m really exhausted. Do you wish you went to college? Right now, I wish I could drop out. It seems totally pointless; I don’t even want to be a boring salary man. It feels like you took some cheating route out, but I know you still work hard..._
> 
> _I know you have some insecurities, too. It took me a long time to realize; you always look so confident, there’s no way to tell and it’s not fair. But I guess... people say the same about me._
> 
> _I hope you’ll tell me about all the places you’ve been someday. I’m sure you have a lot of great stories I’ve never heard. I won’t let you keep them all to yourself._
> 
> _-Tsukishima_

 

He stared at his letter, reading it over and over again. Kuroo’s letter was so nice; neat and concise, pleasantly worded... whereas Tsukishima’s was a total wreck. It changed topics with no warning, and his handwriting alternated between inhumanly neat and depressingly messy. It was vague and scattered and nothing that he wanted to say.

But then again, it was the truth. It was stilted and lost just like he was.

_No amount of forcing is going to make it happen right now._ He reminded himself. Finally, he folded the paper—getting frustrated when it wouldn’t fold neatly on the first try—put it into a fresh envelope, and copied the address from Kuroo’s letter onto it.

He hesitated, briefly, before he licked the seal and pressed it closed. He hesitated once more before sticking on the stamp he had managed to scavenge.

Before he could regret it, he took the letter in hand and marched downstairs. The outgoing mailbox felt like it was looming over him, though in reality it was barely half his height. He took a deep breath and slipped the letter inside, then turned around and marched back the way he had come.

This was what he had to do. He wasn’t going to regret this.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima really regretted this. He knew it would likely take at least a few days for his letter to make it there and any response to make it back, but he couldn’t stop obsessively checking his mailbox each morning for any sign of a letter.

He was back to square one: losing too much sleep, drinking too much coffee, and generally being a troubled mess.

Yamaguchi did his best as a support, but at the end of the day there was only so much he could do. And at the end of the day, all Tsukishima could do was wait.

And wait he did.

Then, finally, after what felt like an endless procession of days and nights spent suffering through classes and homework and ill-advised relaxation techniques that only served to make him more anxious, his answer finally came.

There was something almost magical about it, finally seeing that crisp handwriting tucked in with a stack of other letters after waiting and waiting. It really had only been a little over a week, but it had felt like an eternity to Tsukishima.

He carefully sliced the flap of the envelope open and pulled the letter out with shaking fingers. His heart was racing just as badly as when he had opened the first letter; what if Kuroo rejected him this time? What if he had said something wrong? He tried to squash the feelings down as his eyes settled on the neatly printed words.

 

> _Tsukishima,_
> 
> _You’ve been tying yourself in knots, haven't you? I can tell. Take a deep breath._
> 
> _I’d be lying if I said I haven’t totally been tying myself in knots too, but there’s no need to, right? There’s no need. I’m glad your little friend talked some sense into you. And I’m sure you were glad to get free pancakes! Make sure you tell him “thank you” for both of us._
> 
> _I’ll be honest with you; college is kind of a wreck. I tried it, so I know. For most people, the current system doesn’t support actual quality education, so it’s only good for that piece of paper... and four years is really a lot to trade for a piece of paper, but it’s tough to get by without it. I’m doing it, so I know. But I’ll tell you something; if you don’t have a clear goal you actually_ want _to pursue, it’s better not to go. Or at least to take a break. That’s not the traditional advice, but it’s better to not put yourself in debt, right? If you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore, maybe you need to find a different tunnel._
> 
> _And I’d love to regale you with tales of all the escapades of my youth, but I’ll wait until I can tell you them in person. It’ll be more fun that way!_
> 
> _Don’t give Freckles too much grief, okay? And get some rest. Coffee may be a miracle drink but it’s still not a substitute for real sleep._
> 
> _With love (and concern),_
> 
> _Kuroo_

 

> _Kuroo,_
> 
> _I’m trying to be calm, but it’s stressful right now. There’s too much happening._
> 
> _I also just realized you’re actually writing my name, and I’m honestly surprised that you even know how to write it._
> 
> _You always give such weird advice... I think I understand now; your life has been quite a bit different from mine, so you must have different view on things. It makes me wish changing mindsets was easier._
> 
> _And you never told me you tried college. That must have been hilarious. You spent all your time partying, didn’t you? You must’ve been popular._
> 
> _But... I do really want to quit sometimes. Four years is a long time. Staying doesn’t feel like the right choice, but quitting doesn’t feel like the right choice either. I don’t know what I want and it’s frustrating._
> 
> _I’m looking forward to those stories, so you’d better not disappoint me._
> 
> _Also, coffee_ is _a miracle drink and is one hundred percent a substitute for real sleep. Fight me._
> 
> _-Tsukishima_

 

> _Tsukki,_
> 
> _Ah, your wit (snark) is coming out again finally. I was worried it’d been scared out of you. Now I can read your letters in your voice and then it’s almost like you’re actually here—! I hope I’ll see you again soon, but I know you’re busy. I can wait._
> 
> _But yes, I did go to college! I went for three semesters and then decided I wasn’t getting anything out of it. Then I dropped out and started freelancing. But I studied hard for those three semesters!! I never got to party at all..._
> 
> _The point is, remember your life will continue regardless of your choice to continue school or not. You have to make the choice that’s right for you. If you don’t know what that is yet, you have time to think about it. There’s no countdown clock._
> 
> _And I’m sure you have a lot of interesting stories you could tell me, too! You’ve never talked about yourself much. If you don’t start telling me more, I’ll go talk to Freckles and get the_ really _embarrassing stories. Your choice~_
> 
> _You’d better get some sleep or you’ll lose your youthful glow~! Be careful._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Kuroo_

> _Kuroo,_
> 
> _You changed it to “Tsukki” just to spite me, didn’t you. I'll have revenge._
> 
> _It always feels like time is running out. I mean, technically it is, but barring some really bad luck, it’s not like I’m going to die or something... I have time..._
> 
> _And you really don’t have any way to talk to Yamaguchi without me, so your threat doesn’t scare me. But... I guess I can tell you a story anyway. You’ll have to wait until I see you though, since you’re making me wait too._
> 
> _And I think the “youthful glow” you’re referring to is the caffeine energy. So your argument has no merit. If anything, I’m tempted to drink_ more _coffee._
> 
> _-Tsukishima_

> _Tsukki,_
> 
> _Oho~ You never know, I might’ve gotten his number awhile ago. And we might just have been chatting about you this whole time~ You definitely don’t want to take that risk._
> 
> _But fine, I’ll concede for now. We’re having a story night sometime. I’ll get candles and stuff and make it all romantic!_
> 
> _And that’s right, Tsukki! Remember that you have time. There’s no use panicking about the future. You can’t see it coming no matter what, so you might as well do your best with the present._
> 
> _Oh! I bought a new game this week. It’s a racing game. You should definitely give it a try sometime, I think you’ll enjoy it. And it’s got multiplayer too~! It’s good for relieving stress._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Tetsurou_

 

> _Testurou,_
> 
> _Sorry, but if that’s the case, I’ll have to kill you both. You’re too dangerous by yourselves. Together... bad things will happen. I don’t want to think about it._
> 
> _We could have a picnic in your living room with the candles... I don’t have many stories to tell though. I think you’ll be disappointed._
> 
> _It’s been a long week. And next week definitely isn’t going to be any better. I’m not looking forward to it. I could use some games. And just... some quiet time. I would really like that._

It was odd, beginning a letter with Kuroo’s first name. Tsukishima hesitated when he reached the bottom of his letter, looking at that name on the letter he had received.

_Tetsurou_.

There was an unspoken request in it, settled quietly on the paper for him to answer. He looked back to his own letter, waiting for his signature. He thought for a just a moment before he carefully set the tip of his pen back to it.

 

> _-Kei_

 

This was odd too, but somehow, it felt right. But this wasn’t the part that he was worried about.

Really, the letter wasn’t finished yet.

He hadn’t realized immediately. It was a change that came slowly, carried by each letter he received; each time, it became a little bit easier, a little bit more like a conversation. The understanding had come when he realized his heart no longer raced with anxiety when the letters came, when he started looking forward to each one with the same warm-hearted feeling that he used to get when he went to wait for Kuroo after his classes.

He missed him. He missed Kuroo. So, so much.

He hesitated a moment longer before he added the last few words.

 

> _P.S. I’ll... see you next Saturday._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo strikes me as the kind of person who would hand draw emojis in letters. It took all of my self-control to resist putting them in there.


	5. Another 700 Miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with the next chapter and the long-awaited reunion! I'm thinking there will be one or two more chapters of this, and then I've already got plans (against my better judgement, probably) to do a follow up fic that'll take place in the future. But I'll give you more info on that as I figure out exactly what I want to do with it.
> 
> The title this time is a reference to a line in the song _I Feel You_ by 3 Doors Down, and also to their live tour album which was also named that!

The weekend flew by, and the following week alternated between an agonizing crawl and flying past Tsukishima just as quickly as the weekend did. For Tsukishima’s part, he couldn’t decide which speed he really preferred.

He was going to see Kuroo. The prospect was both relieving and terrifying, and he wasn’t ready to deal with everything it was inevitably going to entail. He would never be ready, but the ache for Kuroo’s company took the edge off the worry, if only because it hurt just a little more.

Still, there was a large part of him that was deeply regretting all of his life choices, and it wished that he could call this all off and continue safely exchanging letters. But if there was anything he had learned in the past weeks of sending those letters, it was that Kuroo had definitely already received his by now; it was far too late to take it back.

The fateful Saturday finally arrived, and Tsukishima woke up far earlier than he wanted to. His heart raced with anxiety as soon as his eyes opened, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to get out of bed anyway. If he was feeling anxious, Kuroo probably was too, and so it was only fair that he not put this off if he could manage it.

It was with this thought that he slowly started going about his morning routine. Get dressed, use the bathroom, brush teeth, eat breakfast, have coffee. The coffee part of the morning was just this side of too bitter, but Tsukishima didn’t bother to do anything to remedy the problem, too lost in his thoughts to care.

Finally, Tsukishima decided that the moment had come, and he dumped the rest of his awful coffee down the drain before slipping on his shoes and coat. He hesitated at the door, one hand barely touching the handle as his eyes stared past it, but he finally managed to muster the will to turn it and push the door open.

The first step out the door was undoubtedly the hardest, but he steeled himself as he crossed the threshold. He was going to see Kuroo. The ache in his chest would finally be soothed, even if it gave a sharp twist before it vanished.

He made it out the heavy front door of the apartment building and into the late morning air with slightly more ease, but when the biting cold hit his skin, he realized that he had forgotten something—both his gloves and his scarf. Though the wind stung against his face and hands, he decided he couldn’t go back upstairs to get his gloves or scarf and risk starting a chain of delays, so he bitterly pulled up his collar, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and set off.

It couldn’t have been more than a mile to Kuroo’s apartment, but the distance seemed impossible in Tsukishima’s mind, and not just because of the cold. Each long stride crossed a million miles and one measly inch. Each minute spent walking threw him forward by hours and backwards by the same.

Eventually he arrived, the unassuming apartment building setting his pulse back into a harried frenzy. His momentum and desire to get out of the cold carried him through the door and up the stairs, but there were only so many steps he could take.  Only so many before Kuroo’s imposing door blocked his path.

There he finally stopped, just a few inches between him and some kind of resolution. His hand hovered in front of the door for what felt like an eternity, but finally, it swung forward, knocking against the wood with two sharp raps that reverberated through his fingers. His hand slowly dropped to his side.

His heart tried to break through his ribs. One beat. Two beats.

Then, the door opened. And there Kuroo stood in the entryway, dressed casually and looking like he hadn’t slept in days. Tsukishima thought, with a pang of guilt, he might not have. Kuroo was smiling almost sadly, and in his hand—

“Welcome home,” Kuroo said slowly, holding out the crisp letter. Tsukishima took a breath, tearing his eyes away from the dark bags under Kuroo’s eyes to reach out a shaking hand.

The envelope was smooth under his fingertips, the flap pulling free with a gentle tug. He unfolded the letter inside, trying to clear his head enough to make out the words.

 

> _Kei,_
> 
> _I’m so happy to see you again. The days have gone by so slowly without seeing you._
> 
> _I know that, even after all these letters, this will be hard for both of us. I know that the wounds I left are not easily healed. And I know that the problem we face is more than just those wounds._
> 
> _But I also know that we can overcome this. I know that we’ll be alright._
> 
> _We don’t have to talk about it now, if you don’t want to. It can wait a little longer. But if you’re ready, I am too. If you’re ready... we can surely find the way forward._
> 
> _And no matter what your answer is... I love you, and it will be okay._
> 
> _-Tetsurou_

“Tetsurou...” The name sounded too heavy on his tongue, his voice wavering and threatening to crack.

“K-Kei!? Are you alright?” Tsukishima didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his face until he heard Kuroo’s panicked voice, until he felt Kuroo’s warm hands wiping them away.

“You’re such a sap...” Tsukishima’s voice faltered, and he saw Kuroo smile, blurry through the tears.

“I know I am. But Kei, you’re freezing! Where’s your scarf?”

“I... I forgot it...”

“Kei...” Kuroo shook his head. “Wait here a second, okay? I’m going to get a blanket.” Tsukishima gave him a jerky nod, and he quickly vanished into his bedroom, returning with his blanket.

Kuroo led Tsukishima inside and settled down into the corner, wrapping the blanket around them both. And even though the tears wouldn’t stop falling, it truly felt okay like this, with Kuroo’s arms wrapped protectively around him, the cold that had settled deep into his skin slowly melting away.

“I’m so sorry, Kei,” Kuroo whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I didn’t mean to put you through this.”

“I just don’t want you to leave.” Tsukishima wiped at his eyes with the edge of the blanket. “If you had told me from the beginning, I could have prepared, I could have—”

“Shut me out? Look, Kei... Don’t you think that wouldn’t be fair? Maybe you could forget me, but I could never forget you. You would’ve broken my heart.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it—”

“I do know. You’re good at putting up walls but... I’d like to think that you would’ve missed me too.”

“Of course I would’ve. I would’ve pretended, I know that, but... s-still, I would’ve missed you.” It was quiet for a moment before Kuroo spoke again.

“Kei...” He kissed the top of Tsukishima head. “Even though I knew, I’m glad to hear you say it.”

“I’m sorry I don’t talk to you enough.”

“It’s okay, I know these things are hard.”

“...I love you, Tetsurou.”

“I love you too, Kei. Everything will be alright, I promise.”

They sat in silence for awhile, Tsukishima slowly collecting himself. Finally, he rubbed at his eyes once more, wiping the remaining tears from his face.

“You wrote that letter just to make me cry, didn’t you?” Tsukishima accused softly. Kuroo laughed just as softly.

“Maybe I did.”

And with that, the cogs clicked quietly back into place.

* * *

 Tsukishima had long since decided he never wanted to get up, even though he was starting to get too warm from the combination of Kuroo and the blanket. His mind had finally settled once more, calmed and coerced into a peaceful, unworried quiet, and his current surroundings no longer threatened him.

“Is it... always this empty?” He started slowly.

“No, not usually,” Kuroo replied easily.

“Then—”

“I usually rent apartments that are already furnished,” Kuroo explained. “There weren’t any open this time, though, so I went with this one. It only came with the lawn chair, so I bought that table and chair to use for now.”

“So you have even _less_ furniture than I thought,” Tsukishima laughed quietly. Somehow, it didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it felt a little absurd.

“It’s really not so bad. No furniture means a lot of open space.” Tsukishima looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What could you possibly need this much open space for?” A grin split Kuroo’s face.

“I’m glad you asked. Wait just a moment.” He wiggled his way out of the corner, Tsukishima grumbling halfheartedly as his pillow escaped, and disappeared into his bedroom. He reappeared a moment later with his laptop in tow, setting it down on the table.

“Tetsurou, what—”

“Just a minute!” Tsukishima fell silent, watching Kuroo fiddle with the laptop. Before long, soft classical music started to drift out from the speakers, and Kuroo whirled around to face him again. “The use for so much open space? It’s things like this.” He dramatically held his hand out.

“Tetsurou, I _swear_ —”

“May I have this dance?” Kuroo cut him off. Tsukishima stared at him, exasperation clear on his face.

“I can’t even _believe_ you.” Kuroo waited expectantly, hand still held out, grin still on his face. Finally, Tsukishima relented, placing his hand in Kuroo’s. He was immediately pulled off the floor and into a waltz. “I don’t even know how to dance—”

“Just relax.” Kuroo strode across the floor with ease, leading Tsukishima through each step.

“Why does the music sound so... old?”

“I found this program that plays music through a filter so it sounds like vinyl.”

“...are you kidding me? I seriously can’t believe you.”

“It’s cool though, right?” Tsukishima didn’t respond. “I think it gives it a nice ambiance.”

As the minutes rolled by, the song changed and Kuroo let them naturally slow down, until they were dancing formlessly at their own two-step pace around the room. Tsukishima leaned closer, resting his chin on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Do you... want to come over for dinner?” Tsukishima asked.

“You don’t want to eat here?”

“Do you have food?” Tsukishima asked incredulously.

“...we could order takeout.”

“I’d rather make something,” Tsukishima said. “We should probably have lunch first, though.”

“Probably a good idea,” Kuroo agreed. “How about takeout for lunch, then?”

“Sure.”

Tsukishima felt cold when Kuroo stepped away to turn the music off, but he quickly returned and grabbed his hand.

“Ready?”

“...are we going to hold hands the entire way?” Tsukishima asked dryly.

“Absolutely!” Kuroo beamed. “Especially since you forgot your gloves!” Tsukishima hid his face with his other hand.

“It’s too embarrassing...” He grumbled.

“Too bad!” Kuroo happily led them to the door.

* * *

 They arrived back at Tsukishima’s door, takeout in tow, and Tsukishima found himself staring it down with his key halfway to the lock. He had left through this door just a few hours ago, feeling like he might die from anxiety, and here he was again, the whole universe back in order and spinning just as it always had. It felt too surreal.

“Everything okay?” Kuroo asked from behind him. He jolted slightly.

“F-fine,” he said, finally crossing the last few inches to stick his key in the lock and open the door.

They both stepped inside, Kuroo moving into the kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world. Tsukishima watched him hollowly, feeling a bit like he alone had been shifted just a few inches left of reality.

“...are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale,” Kuroo said, after noticing him just standing there.

“F-fine. I’m fine,” Tsukishima stuttered again. “I just... remembered... I don’t have any drinks.”

“Water’s fine for me. Unless you want something? I can run to the convenience store real fast if you want.”

“S-sure.” Kuroo smiled.

“What would you like?”

“Orange juice is fine...”

“Alright! I’ll be back in a few minutes, then.” Kuroo slid past him and out the door, faster than Tsukishima could register.

In Kuroo’s absence, he took a deep breath. He looked around his apartment, trying to gather his thoughts.

He had never been one to collect things, preferring a smaller number of meaningful items over a large number of less meaningful ones; still, there was a modest amount of things decorating the various surfaces around him.

He stepped over to his bookshelf and picked up one of the little plastic dinosaur models he had assembled long ago, a brachiosaurus. He turned it over in his hands.

It was a question that had come to him several times in the weeks since their fight, but he’d been too caught up in his worries to give it any proper thought. But now... now he certainly could.

For a moment, he tried to imagine it—his eyes drifted shut, and he mentally removed books and papers and all the plastic dinosaurs. Almost everything gone, but for the furniture. The dinosaur in his hands was one of the few things left, and he held it in front of his face, considering it, as though he could see it through his eyelids.

He allowed himself to live in this reality, to wander through the rooms and look at the empty, clean surfaces. As he looked around, he picked up the remaining things, gathering them all together and tucking them neatly into a suitcase. As he looked at it sitting on his bed, the room shifted around him, walls and furniture moving around and changing shapes in the periphery of his vision. He looked towards the window and found different scenes passing and unfolding outside, faraway places seeming close enough to touch.

Tsukishima was startled when he opened his eyes to find the suitcase was gone, to find the bookcase in front of him and all those things right where he left them. It was stifling, almost.

He looked at the plastic brachiosaurus in his hands, and he heard the door open.

“Kei, I brought your orange juice! I got some coffee for myself but you can have some too if you—” He stopped abruptly. “Kei?” Tsukishima turned to face him slowly, but didn’t look up.

“I could do this... for you...” He started, turning the dinosaur around in his hands. Kuroo said nothing, watching him with an unreadable expression. “I could do this, for you,” Tsukishima repeated. “But that’s not right...” He shook his head. “That’s not the right way to do this.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Kuroo agreed. “Look, Kei—you know I would do anything for you, and I know that you would do the same for me. But blind sacrifices are no way to approach a decision this big. It’s no way to approach a life together.” Tsukishima could feel the heat creeping into his face as he saw it creep into Kuroo’s, but still Kuroo managed to continue. “If we approach this with all or nothing, we’ll only end up with regrets later.”

“So... how should we approach it, then? It’s just too much to reconcile..”

“We’ll figure it out. There’s always a solution.” Tsukishima frowned. “But for now, we don’t need to think about it, right? Now is the time for gyuudon!” He shook the plastic bag in his hand for emphasis.

“Okay. Let’s eat, then.” Tsukishima smiled gently, and set the brachiosaurus back on its shelf.


	6. Goodbye Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned (finally) with the next chapter! I’m a week and a half late here and I apologize, but this last week and a half has really been _something_. And I needed a little extra time anyway because I wanted to expand it a bit. Anyway, the plan is that next chapter will be the last, but I still need to edit, so that may change!
> 
> (See end note for the explanation of the chapter title!)

_Tsukishima is sitting cross-legged on the floor, Kuroo sitting facing him and so close that their knees are touching, so close that Tsukishima can feel Kuroo’s body heat seeping in and overtaking his._

_There’s a guitar in Tsukishima’s hands; he doesn’t know where it came from, but he recognizes the lacquered wood stained in dark colors, recognizes the way it fits naturally into the grooves of his fingers._

_He raises his hand to play, and there’s something in the air, oppressive and choking, even though he hasn’t said anything to Kuroo. Even though Kuroo hasn’t said anything to him. Tsukishima doesn’t try to say anything, and doesn’t try to look, either, but still, he can see the devastation that has been put on Kuroo’s face._

_He brings his hand down to strum._

_Tsukishima recognizes this song, too; he’s playing it perfectly even though he remembers not having touched a guitar in years, even though he’s never played this particular song before and he knows he hasn’t._

_His mouth opens to sing the words, his voice stronger than he remembers, too, far stronger than it should be in this situation._ _He can feel each line arcing from his throat, but they don’t quite reach his ears through the quiet strings._

_They don’t reach his ears, but they reach Kuroo’s. Tsukishima is still not looking at his face, his eyes almost closed, spacing out over the curve of his fingers on the frets, but he can still see that devastation, etched deeper and deeper into Kuroo’s features as each word reaches him, as each word breaks him down bit by bit, line by line._

_It’s a carefully crafted song, distilled into a short space, and Tsukishima strums the last bars as the air redoubles, presses down on him with bone crushing force._

_When the song is done, Tsukishima slowly lets his hand fall, slowly takes the guitar and hands it to Kuroo. Kuroo takes it gently in his own hands, barely gripping it, and Tsukishima leans forward, holds Kuroo’s head just as gently, and presses a kiss between his eyes._

_Then, he stands up, walks towards the door..._

_Tsukishima still doesn’t look at his face, still doesn’t tell him anything, but he does still see the tears, even long after the door has shut behind him._

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima woke up to silence, the blurry, loose collar of Kuroo’s shirt just in front of him. He took one deep, grounding breath to try and get his bearings, to shake off what had obviously been just a dream, and he felt Kuroo stir.

“Kei?” Tsukishima hummed softly, trying not to give himself away. “You alright?”

“Fine.” His voice came out too smoothly, too softly, and he could tell Kuroo noticed, but Kuroo didn’t say anything, just pulled him a little closer with the arms that were already encircling his shoulders.

“Go back to sleep. I’m here.” Tsukishima nodded softly before closing his eyes again. He tried to banish the dream from his mind, tried to push it away along with the pit it had left in him, but it didn’t quite want to leave so easily.

Still, he could feel himself slowly succumbing to sleep again, and he thankfully sank down into it.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima had been hesitant to ask Kuroo to stay the night, even though their conversation throughout the evening had been easy and smooth and everything he’d needed for weeks. He had been hesitant because he was afraid something might shatter, afraid that he might step too close to the edge and slip back into the darkness of worry that was all too eager to take him again.

But Kuroo was there, and Tsukishima knew that as long as he stayed, the darkness couldn’t get to him. He wondered briefly if it was because it was getting confused by Kuroo’s hair or by his name. Probably both.

Kuroo had quickly wiped away his hesitancy at the question, however, asking him jokingly why he thought he had planned to leave, and adding that Tsukishima was truly stuck with him now. Tsukishima had tried not to smile at that, succeeded, but still knew that Kuroo had seen it as plainly as if he had really failed.

And Tsukishima was happy, after all, that he had asked, happy that Kuroo had stayed, when he woke up the second time to find him still there next to him, the thin light from the curtains dancing across his face.

“Tetsurou...”

“Morning, Kei.” Tsukishima blinked a few times to clear his eyes.

“What even happened last night.”

“You fell asleep during the movie so I carried you to bed.”

“You _carried_ me?”

“Yeah, you don’t remember? You woke up for a second.”

“I don’t...”

“Well, that’s what happened. I guess you must’ve been as tired as I was.”

“Yeah...” Tsukishima tried not to remember the implications, the reason they were so tired, as they brushed up against the topic once more.

“So, Kei...”

“Hm?”

“You did tell Freckles that everything’s okay now, right?”

“Yes,” Tsukishima lied immediately.

“Are you sure?” Kuroo fixed him with a very suspicious look, and Tsukishima really wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. After all, he really had meant to text Yamaguchi and tell him, but he’d gotten a bit wrapped up in being around Kuroo again—that was fair, wasn’t it?

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I don’t know, I just thought I’d give you a chance to confess before I scold you.” Tsukishima sighed pointedly.

“So you _do_ have his number.” Tsukishima really did not want to think about what kinds of schemes this union might subject him to.

“Of course I do. And I can’t believe you haven’t told him yet!”

“It’s only been _one day_. And I was going to tell him when I saw him in class on Monday.”

“Mhm, sure. You do know you also have his phone number, right?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tsukishima ground out.

“Well, I guess it’s alright. I know just how to fix this.”

“...what did you do?”

“Nothing! But we’d better get up; I promised we’d meet him at eleven.”

 

* * *

 

After hastily getting up and ready, Tsukishima found himself being dragged down to his favorite café to meet up with Yamaguchi, an arrangement he’d only promised to honor if Kuroo bought his breakfast. It was hardly a punishment, but Tsukishima decided to pretend it was, as he usually did in these kinds of scenarios. He also decided to pretend he wasn’t concerned by the number of times he’d found himself in these scenarios.

Yamaguchi was already in their favorite booth and waiting for them, surrounded by several plates of pancakes, and he waved when they walked through the door. Tsukishima immediately scowled, but Kuroo did just the opposite, beaming and leading him by the hand over to the table.

“Tsukki! And Kuroo!” Tsukishima wasted no time getting straight to the point.

“Alright, when did you two trade numbers? Spill it.”

“You don’t remember? We traded numbers the first time we met.” Tsukishima sensed that there was something happening behind him, and sure enough, he turned to find Kuroo hastily putting his hand down.

“Were you really trying to signal him to stop talking? I can’t believe you, Tetsurou.”

“Wow, he really does call you that!” Yamaguchi exclaimed from behind him. Tsukishima sighed, completely exasperated after only having been there for all of two minutes.

“So let me get this straight, you two have had each other’s numbers _this entire time_. What the hell have you been talking about?”

“This and that,” Kuroo said, shrugging noncommittally. Yamaguchi followed suit, and Kuroo took a seat in the booth and pulled Tsukishima down with him.

“I went ahead and ordered for you guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Yamaguchi said, pushing a plate towards each of them.

“No worries! I’m just glad there’s food, I’m starving,” Kuroo said, digging into his blackberry pancakes. Tsukishima crossed his arms.

“I can’t believe you two are teaming up against me. What’s next? Is the sky going to fall? Is Tetsurou’s mother going to appear and start lecturing me about not eating enough like your mom does?”

“I’m allowed to be friends with your boyfriend, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, rolling his eyes and starting to eat.

“And as your loving and endearing boyfriend, it’s like, my _duty_ to be friends with your best friend, Kei,” Kuroo chimed in.

“Why? I’m not really friends with Kenma.”

“Well you should be. You two would get along excellently. Freckles!”

“Huh?” Yamaguchi was caught slightly off-guard, his mouth full of pancake.

“We’re setting up a boyfriends-best-friends-playdate! When are you free?”

“Tetsurou—” Tsukishima tried to interject.

“I’m available on Saturday!”

“Yamaguchi, don’t encourage him—”

“Ok, it’s a date! We’ll go bowling or something. Bowling is perfect for bonding. That’s why they both start with ‘bo’! Just like ‘Bokuto’!”

“You are _not_ inviting him,” Tsukishima quickly cut in. “You remember what happened last time.” A shadow passed over Kuroo’s face.

“Yes, I remember. But it’s okay, this playdate will be restricted just to the three of us and Kenma.”

“Would Kenma even be willing to put in the effort required to bowl, though?” Tsukishima asked skeptically.

“Probably not? But we can try! But see, Kei, you’re better friends with Kenma than you think!”

“Anybody with eyes could figure out that Kenma wouldn’t put effort into anything that’s not video games unless you forced or tricked him.”

“I’ve gotta side with Tsukki on this one,” Yamaguchi chimed in.

“Okay, fine, you got me there. Still, I know you two will get along. I can sense it.”

“Sure.” Tsukishima finally picked up his fork and cut out a bite of his strawberry pancakes.

“So, Kuroo,” Yamaguchi began between bites. “I keep forgetting to ask you—how did you and Tsukki start having your weekly movie dates? I can’t imagine him just agreeing to something so romantic so you must’ve had to convince him, right?”

“ _Yamaguchi_ ,” Tsukishima groaned, running a hand over his face.

“I’m glad you asked!” Kuroo quickly interrupted, waving his fork in front of him. “It all started way back when, when we’d only been dating for a few weeks.”

“You don’t need to tell him the story—”

“I wanted to see Kei’s apartment, so I asked if he wanted to have a movie night. I promised he could pick the movie if he agreed, and somehow that worked.”

“He picked _Jurassic Park_ , didn’t he?” Yamaguchi asked immediately.

“You know your stuff, Freckles! It’s adorable. But yes, we watched the first one that night, and every time he got to pick after that, we watched another one until I was all caught up to _Jurassic World_.”

“Of course, of course, I knew no boyfriend of Tsukki’s would be spared from watching them all.”

“Of course! You should’ve seen Kei’s face, though, it was so cute.”

“Okay, I changed my mind, breakfast is not enough. You still owe me.” Tsukishima was collectively ignored.

“So if you were the one to suggest the first movie night, how did you get out of taking him to _your_ apartment?” Yamaguchi asked.

“The power of distraction,” Kuroo said proudly. “But anyway, I made dinner that night, and then I suggested we do it again the next week, and I guess Kei wanted to cook to return the favor, and we ended up just always trading off like that.”

“And Tetsurou has managed to forget when it’s his turn to cook at least 80% of the time since then,” Tsukishima quipped.

“Or I’m just pretending to forget so I can surprise you with my excellent on-the-spot cooking.”

“Mhm, sure. I’m not convinced.”

“You will be. Just wait until you see what I have planned for next week.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes when Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows, and finally turned his attention back to his pancakes. There was a lapse in the conversation for a bit while they all ate, an amicable silence that almost made Tsukishima forget the original reason they had met up with Yamaguchi in the first place. Luckily, it didn’t seem he needed to do anything, as Kuroo had obviously told Yamaguchi already that everything was okay now, or even if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t require any further explanation or evidence on Tsukishima’s part to prove it to him after this.

When they had all finished eating, Kuroo insisted on paying for all three of them. Yamaguchi tried to protest, but relented after Kuroo put on the intimidating smile that Tsukishima had begun to refer to as “the captain’s face.”

After the bill was taken care of, Kuroo stood up to leave, but Tsukishima hung back, pretending to gather up his jacket. He waited until Kuroo was out of earshot, and then motioned Yamaguchi to come closer.

“Would you do me a favor?” He asked after Yamaguchi leaned towards him.

“What is it?”

“I need to go get something from my parents’ house next weekend. Come with me.” Yamaguchi’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he nodded.

“Sure...? Whatever you need, Tsukki.”

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima told Kuroo about his plan to visit his parents over the weekend, and though he was accused of trying to weasel out of their bowling date, Tsukishima managed to appease him by promising to do it another time.

Tsukishima lied when Kuroo asked if he could come along, saying that it was a special trip for him and Yamaguchi, and Kuroo gracefully accepted a rain check on that as well. All that was left then was to go.

It was a simple mission, one that probably wouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes if his parents lived down the street instead of almost two hours away by bullet train, but it was something that Tsukishima had to do, and he would do it.

His parents were just as confused as Yamaguchi when Tsukishima told them what he was looking for, but they agreed to help in the search, and it was found within a few minutes, just as Tsukishima had predicted; an old acoustic guitar, the lacquered wood stained a dark black about the edges, and a deep, more natural orange in the center.

He couldn’t get the image out of his head, couldn’t banish the strange dream from his mind, and he knew of only one way to remedy it, no matter how troublesome it might be to make it happen. He knew, then, that a borrowed guitar wouldn’t work; it had to be _this_ guitar. All the details had to be just so, had to be perfectly arranged to match so he could clear his head once more. Nothing else would suffice.

He hadn’t seen the instrument in years, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to complete his plan after all, but he had completed at least the first step, and he set to getting reacquainted with the guitar as soon as he was alone for a bit, skillfully avoiding Yamaguchi’s questions about the song he was trying to play and why he suddenly felt the need to come all this way just for the sole purpose of playing it.

They stayed the night at his parents’ house, and headed back first thing in the morning. Then, it was time to practice.

 

* * *

 

It took days of his free time and several rejuvenated calluses before Tsukishima was finally ready.

He and Kuroo ate their Friday night date meal in amicable silence, and Tsukishima waited until Kuroo started washing the dishes before he started talking. He dived straight to his point.

“I used to play guitar, when I was a kid.” Kuroo looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Guitar?”

“Yeah. My elementary school had a music program, so we had to learn an instrument... Of course they didn’t have a lot of choices, or instruments in general, so we didn’t really get to pick ourselves. I didn’t care that much what I played, and I was big and had long fingers, so they put me in the guitar group.”

“Can you still play?” Tsukishima could tell Kuroo was sensing where this was going, even if he didn’t know the specifics.

“Well... sort of. I can’t play it very naturally anymore, but if I have time to practice, I can usually play a song.” Kuroo regarded him for a moment, the dishes forgotten.

“Is there a song you want to play...?” Tsukishima nodded sharply, his fingers lacing together in front of him on the table.

“It’s weird and... sad, but I had a dream about playing it for you, and I can’t get that image out of my head, so...”

“A dream...? Will playing the song for me actually help?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, I’d love to hear you play, if you really want to.”

“I do. Give me just a minute.” Tsukishima stood from the table and left the room, returning after a moment with the guitar. Kuroo’s eyes followed it questioningly, but he didn’t ask.

Tsukishima sat down in the middle of the floor with his legs crossed, and motioned for Kuroo to join him. When Kuroo had sat down across from him, Tsukishima slid forward until their knees were touching, then carefully brought the guitar into his lap between them, his fingers settling softly over the strings. He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” he said slowly. “Please... imagine it like that while I’m playing.” He opened his eyes to see the sad, questioning look on Kuroo’s face. He waited until Kuroo gave him a soft nod, then turned back to the guitar, positioning his fingers.

With a strum, he began to play.

It was truly an odd song, short and melancholy, even back when it hadn’t meant anything to him personally. He opened his mouth to shakily sing the words, still not used to the way singing felt in his throat.

_"Moving truck outside; I’m off to Oklahoma... These walls we painted are getting painted over...”_ He could feel Kuroo’s eyes on him, but he focused on his fingers, on the words he carefully pronounced. _“I’m scared I’ll fall asleep, I’m scared to say goodbye. Who knows how long we’ll make it last tonight?”_ He could feel his eyes beginning to sting, but he blinked the feeling away. _“Goodbye bear, I’m heading out the door, I’m falling off the map, I’m never coming home.”_ His voice faltered slightly over the last word. _“I’m sorry I couldn’t ask you, and couldn’t offer you my life. Now it’s all in boxes, ‘cause sometimes...”_ He felt Kuroo’s fingers brushing against his knee. _“...you have to let love die.”_

He fell quiet, strumming the last part of the song into the silence of the room.

“Kei...” Tsukishima took one look up at Kuroo’s heartbroken face, and his hand finally left the guitar, rubbing at his stinging eyes with the pick still clutched in his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” Tsukishima’s voice faltered again, slightly. “I know it hurts, but I had to create it so I could wipe it out.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Kuroo rubbed his hands softly over Tsukishima’s arms, leaning forward to look into his face.

Tsukishima finally looked up towards Kuroo again, and was startled to find tears on his face, dripping slowly down his cheeks. He reached out gently and wiped them away with his thumb, then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss between Kuroo’s eyes.

“You know, I still remember a nightmare I had right after our fight. I can’t get rid of it. It’s not something that would happen in real life, but I want to wipe it out too...”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Maybe some other time.” He paused to take a breath. “I don’t really want to think about it right now. But I know... that I’ll be able to wipe it out someday soon, even if it’s just as sad. Will you wait until then?”

“Of course.” Kuroo smiled.

“Thank you.” Tsukishima smiled in return, and stood up to stow the guitar away once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooorry for hitting you with the angst train again right after things were finally resolved. I had the idea for the song and I just had to do it, and also it’s not fair that only Kuroo gets a nightmare in this fic, right? (Though of course they both got many, but I’ve got to be fair and show you one from each. Yes.)
> 
> So, the name of the song that Tsukki plays in this chapter is another Ludo song named _Goodbye Bear_ (and there's the chapter title for you). It’s a [pregap track](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pregap), which makes it extremely difficult to find online, so I went ahead and [uploaded it for you to listen to,](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B9EvDrc8ZW7XdUgtNFBOcm5PLWc) if you’re so inclined. (And if you like this band and/or the song, you can go ahead and download it, I promise I won’t tell.)


	7. When the Time is Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is; the last chapter! This fic isn’t even that long, but considering how concise my stuff usually is... it’s quite long. I hope you’re all enjoying the holidays! Please enjoy the last chapter too and I’ll meet you at the bottom.

The world was really set right again, turning on its axis at the right speed once more, and Tsukishima was disgustingly happy for it. Kuroo’s presence brought a huge wave of relief, an effect he’d never really noticed until he was deprived of it, and he found he was handling just about everything in his life with much more grace than he had in awhile.

But still, he couldn’t help but feel that it was just the calm before the storm; a moment of peace together before Kuroo would have to leave. That indefinite date seemed to loom over them both.

Tsukishima was counting the days, no matter how hard he tried to stop. They’d been together for almost ten months, and Kuroo had likely been living in Tokyo for at least a month before that. He knew it was getting close, and he watched for the signs through stubbornly closed eyes.

And slowly, so slowly, the storm on the horizon started to shine its warning lights against Tsukishima’s eyelids.

Kuroo was restless.

Tsukishima had a hard time pinpointing when he had first started to see it, but looking back, he had to say it was something simple; Kuroo started bouncing his leg whenever he was sitting. It wasn’t a particularly uncommon tic, but it was new for Kuroo, and surprisingly insidious.

After that came all the walks. Kuroo was pretty active, but Tsukishima knew he usually only exercised in the morning. But then he started going for a long walk almost every evening, too. Tsukishima sometimes joined him when his pile of homework was manageable, but he still knew that Kuroo went by himself often, because whenever Tsukishima texted during that time, he got no response for a long while, then a “sorry, I was out.”

Soon, whenever they watched movies, Kuroo would repeatedly make up excuses to get up and walk around the apartment. Sometimes he would go to the bathroom a suspicious number of times in two hours, or make more snacks than either of them could possibly eat, or claim he forgot to get the mail so he could go downstairs to look for it, or even insist on an impromptu trip to the convenience store for some weird food he’d suddenly had a craving for.

But by far, the most concerning habit that Kuroo started displaying was an incessant need to clean things. Tsukishima knew Kuroo liked things to be tidy, which wasn’t too much of a problem in his own apartment—being that it contained so few things—but Tsukishima’s apartment was a different matter, and the more time passed, the pickier Kuroo got. Tsukishima tried to keep the place as clean and tidy as he could for Kuroo’s sake, but the man still stopped repeatedly in the middle of activities just to clean leftover dishes, still ended up cleaning everything twice just to make sure it was “spotless,” still straightened random objects that seemed out of place. And—most concerningly to Tsukishima—he started cleaning things that didn’t even appear to be dirty in the first place. Kuroo’s expression always spoke of stress while he cleaned now, and he adamantly refused Tsukishima’s help every time it was offered. Somewhere in the back of Tsukishima’s mind, something he had heard in a psychology class his first year echoed over and over again; _people will often resort to excessive cleaning when they feel stressed, as it allows them the feeling that they have some measure of control over their environment._

The final nail in the coffin came early one Saturday morning, when Kuroo had decided to stay over at Tsukishima’s apartment for the weekend. Tsukishima had woken up around four, sensing that something was off, and quickly realized that there was a cold, empty space next to him where Kuroo should have been. He immediately felt concerned, but forced himself to remain calm and wait, hoping Kuroo had just gotten up to use the bathroom and would be back.

After several minutes had passed, he heard some rustling in the kitchen and finally decided to go check on the man. He rolled out of bed and pulled on the first pair of pajama pants and jacket he could reach, then made his way to the kitchen.

There, he found Kuroo, leaning as casually against the counter as one could at four in the morning, and sipping jet black coffee from a mug. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was staring off at some point on the floor as though he could bore a hole straight through it if he just looked long enough.

Tsukishima stepped into the room quietly, bare feet padding across the floor, and Kuroo’s eyes finally flicked up to meet his before flicking away just as quickly. He smiled weakly, as though he was trying to be reassuring.

“It’s soon, isn’t it?” It came out of Tsukishima’s mouth sounding more like a statement than a question, and it hung in the air between them menacingly for a long, silent moment. Kuroo finally straightened up slightly and turned to set his mug down on the counter before running his hands over his face, rubbing at his eyes.

“Kei, have I ever told you about stars?” Tsukishima blinked.

“What—”

“Stars are the hearts of the universe, you know.” Kuroo’s eyes finally met Tsukishima’s again, a tired but knowing expression twinkling somewhere deep in them.

“...what are you talking about?” Tsukishima finally relented.

“When I was a kid, my parents sold crafts. That’s what we did; we’d travel from place to place, selling handmade stuff. Candles, blankets, bags, those kinds of things. There wasn’t much I could make when I was little, but my mom showed me how to make these paper stars.”

“Did people really buy them?”

“Yeah, actually. They didn’t cost much, and of course people always love things made by cute kids.” Tsukishima raised an eyebrow.

“You were cute?”

“Rude, Kei.” Tsukishima smirked. “Anyway, she showed me how to make them, and she always told me that even though they were small, they were really important. ‘Stars are the hearts of the universe; everything is born in them, everything dies in them, and they’ve been the wanderer’s companion since the beginning of time. One can never be truly lost so long as they know how to listen to the stars.’ She always told me that.”

“...what exactly are you trying to say?”

“I know this is really overly sentimental, but here.” Kuroo reached into his pocket, then held his hand out in front of him. Tsukishima’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he held his hand out, and Kuroo dropped something startlingly light into his palm; a tiny, red paper star, with simple cat faces patterned across it. “Please take care of it.” Tsukishima looked between the star and Kuroo, smiling.

“You really are such a sap... but I’ll take care of it.” Kuroo smiled, just a little lopsided.

“Aww, don’t lie, you’re a little sappy too.”

“You don’t have any proof of that.”

“Mhm.” Kuroo smirked.

“So...” Tsukishima started. “Where are you going to go this time?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t decided. Would you help me?”

“Huh?”

“It’s sooner than I would like, but I really want you to be involved, so... help me pick my next destination.” Tsukishima was slightly bewildered, suddenly finding it a bit difficult to put words together.

“Well... where are you thinking of...?” Kuroo’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling.

“I’ve been considering either Russia, South Korea, or Australia. Though I haven’t narrowed it down to any particular cities yet.”

“Those are... very far away...” He felt Kuroo’s warm hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll be fine.”

“I know. But, I want to go with you...” Kuroo’s face fell.

“You shouldn’t, Kei—”

“I can handle it,” Tsukishima said adamantly.

“I know you can. That’s not the issue.” Kuroo sighed. “Look, you have a life here. You have two years of school left. You should focus on that.”

“I don’t give a shit about school,” Tsukishima replied bitterly.

“I know, Kei. I know even two more years is an eternity. But you’ve put in a lot of work. Don’t you think it’s worth it to finish?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Kuroo frowned.

“Well, I did tell you that you shouldn’t keep going with it if you think it’s not worth it. But you should give it some earnest thought. We’ve gotta keep clear heads, and I know your beautiful brain can handle that.” Tsukishima could feel his face flushing. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m able. Then we can decide where to go from there.” Tsukishima swallowed hard.

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, I want to leave the whole decision up to you. Where do you want me to go?” Tsukishima considered it.

“Not Australia... There’s too many things there that could kill you,” he said finally.

“Kei—”

“One of those giant spiders might mistake your hair for its nest and then eat you when it realizes it’s been tricked.” Kuroo stared at him for a moment before a small smile finally crept onto his face, the spirit returning to his tired eyes.

“There’s the Tsukki I know,” he said fondly. “Alright, not Australia.”

“Have you been to Russia or Korea before?”

“We stayed in Moscow for a few months once. I’ve only visited South Korea on short trips.”

“Then maybe you should go there. It’s not too far.”

“Alright!” A thought suddenly occurred to Tsukishima, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“...do you even speak Korean?”

“Not a word!” Kuroo said excitedly.

“Then how—”

“I’m very good at picking up languages,” Kuroo beamed.

“If you say so...”

“Well I’ve had enough practice haven’t I?” Tsukishima shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll let you know when I’ve narrowed down some cities.” Tsukishima nodded.

“It’s the middle of the night though. Let’s go back to bed.” Kuroo blinked.

“But... I just made coffee.”

“Not my problem. Come on. Even if you’re not sleeping I need a heater in this weather.” Kuroo laughed.

“Well, I’m glad I can be of some assistance, then.” They headed off back to Tsukishima’s bed, Kuroo’s half-empty mug of coffee quickly forgotten on the counter.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, I know I said I’d give you several cities to pick from, but I really think I’ve found the one.”

“And what if I disagree?” Tsukishima asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You won’t,” Kuroo assured with a grin. “It’s called Jeonju, in the southwest. It’s a nice mix of urban and rural and I’ve heard it’s famous for the food.”

“Aren’t all places famous for their food?” Tsukishima asked dryly. Kuroo laughed.

“I suppose so. Still, it looks nice.”

“Hmm.”

“Here, I’ll prove it to you.”

Kuroo pulled his laptop over and Tsukishima was subsequently bombarded with pictures. He was, frankly, surprised by how much enthusiasm Kuroo was able to exude about his moving plans despite how many times he had done this already, but Tsukishima was at least relieved that some of the life seemed to have come back into his eyes.

At the end of it all, Tsukishima had to agree that Jeonju looked quite nice, and agreed to Kuroo’s choice of destination.

And with the destination set, the date was set as well. The flight was booked for the end of the month, just a few short weeks away, and Tsukishima could feel his heart sinking again. Still, it was grounding to look at all the pictures and landmarks, at the plane ticket; they assured some deep, irrational part of himself that Kuroo wasn’t just disappearing into the void, he was going to another, real place, and would be safe and sound there.

Tsukishima tried to distract himself from the worry of it all by helping Kuroo straighten out his belongings. There wasn’t much to straighten out, but there were things Kuroo couldn’t take along, and they had to be gotten rid of. As the days passed, Tsukishima found himself accepting Kuroo’s only pans, as well as the lone table and chair. A few miscellaneous items were tossed out, and at the end of it all, Tsukishima was able to list every single one of Kuroo’s remaining possessions, one item at a time, from his slim book of transit cards down to each individual sock.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but watch with fascination as each item was neatly packed, one by one, into a travel suitcase and a carry-on sized camping backpack, both well used and well loved. Everything fit perfectly, a feat Tsukishima had never witnessed.

And just as he watched the last pair of socks disappear into Kuroo’s backpack, Tsukishima became acutely aware again that the day had finally come. They had gotten up in the early hours of the morning and had a quick breakfast together before Kuroo had begun to pack up his things.

The rest of the morning was a blur; Kuroo loaded his backpack onto his shoulders, they went down and dropped off his keys and said goodbye to the landlord, they grabbed coffee to fight off the chill on the way to the station...

And now, here they were, stepping through the turnstile and towards the platform, so Kuroo could catch the Narita line to the airport. So Kuroo could fly off to Jeonju without him.

Tsukishima shook his head. He refused to ruin his little remaining time with Kuroo by worrying. He’d done his worrying, and there was nothing productive left to do with it. He didn’t need it, and he wouldn’t let it come back.

Tsukishima laced his fingers through Kuroo’s as they waited, an odd sense of calm settling over them.

It wasn’t long before the overhead speaker announced the train, and it pulled slowly into the station in front of them. Tsukishima looked at it, his mind still clear through the slight spike of anxiety. More than anything, he felt like he was going to get on the train with Kuroo, even though he knew he wasn’t. He was staying behind this time, but next time...

Next time, this train would be his too.

“Kei.” Kuroo was also gazing at the train, seemingly thinking about something.

“What...?”

“I want you to say something.”

“What is it?” Kuroo finally turned to look at him.

“Just say that you’ll be okay. That we’ll be okay.”   

“I don’t—” Kuroo held up a hand.

“You don’t have to say it to me. It’d be pointless for you to say it to me; then you’re only saying it because I want you to. No, I want you to say it when you really _believe_ it. It doesn’t matter when or to who, but promise me that you’ll say it before I see you again.”

“I... Okay.”

“Thank you.” Kuroo smiled gently. “I’ll promise you too, Kei. It will be alright. We’ll see each other again soon.” Something tightened in Tsukishima’s chest, but he took a deep breath and planted his feet. “I’m sorry, Kei. I have to go. The train’s going to leave.”

“I’ll be here when you come back.” He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo gave Tsukishima’s hand one last, reassuring squeeze, before he let go and turned toward the train.

“Tetsurou, wait—” Kuroo turned back, and Tsukishima hesitated just a second before he stuck his hand out. “It’s still overly sentimental, but please, take good care of it.” Kuroo looked confused, but he held out his hand.

Tsukishima pressed a small corked bottle into it. Inside, there was a tiny paper star, dark blue with a crow pattern. Kuroo stared at it for a second until recognition dawned on his features, and he gently enclosed it in his fist, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe.” He turned back and stepped through the open doors, onto the train. Tsukishima waved to him as the doors slid shut.

Kuroo waved back, clutching the tiny bottle in his hand as the train slowly departed.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima stood there for several minutes afterwards, thinking about it. What he had told Kuroo was the truth; he wanted to go along. But at the same time, he felt that he was in the right place right now. As clichéd as it seemed to him, he knew it wasn’t time yet. But in the same spirit, he knew that it would be, soon.

He really didn’t have much to look forward to now except Kuroo’s eventual calls and letters, but he was okay. Just two years stood between him and opportunity, two years he knew he needed to really come to grips with everything that had happened over the past months, to come to grips with what he really wanted and how he wanted to direct his life from now on.

Two years was an eternity, but it was also a chance to clear his head.

After awhile, Tsukishima finally turned and headed out of the station and back to his apartment.

He wandered into his bedroom, intending to take a nap to make up for the lost hours of sleep. He settled under the blankets, taking off his glasses and closing his eyes.

“ _Message!_ ” Tsukishima jolted awake again, disoriented and startled.

“What the _hell_ was that?” He clumsily pulled his glasses on.

“ _Message!_ ” This time, he caught his phone lighting up on the nightstand, and he realized what was happening.

He picked up his phone and swiped it open to two texts from Kuroo.

 

> Tetsurou: just got to the airport!
> 
> Tetsurou: do you miss me yet :3c

 

Tsukishima sighed, shaking his head.

 

> Me: did you really put a custom text tone of your voice on my phone?
> 
> Tetsurou: oh, i did more than that...

 

Tsukishima jumped when his phone suddenly started ringing.

“ _Pick up the phone! Pick up the phone! Your handsome boyfriend is calling!_ ”

“I _really_ can’t believe him...” It was probably one of the most exasperating things Kuroo had ever done, and even though the ringtone was annoying as hell, Tsukishima found himself smiling anyway. “Yeah, we’ll be okay, Tetsurou. We’ll definitely be okay.”

He finally swiped the screen to answer the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

“ _I can’t believe_ you’ve been gone for all of an hour and you’re already annoying me.”

“It’s what I do best! Don’t think you’re safe just because I’m not there!”

“Oh, believe me, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! Thank you so much for reading all the way to the end! I really hope you enjoyed it, and that you’ll stick around for the sequels.
> 
> I’ve gone ahead and marked this fic as part of a series now, so you can subscribe to it if you do want to read the sequels I have planned. Right now, I have a short epilogue of sorts, and a few misc ideas that I’m going to try to sew together into a coherent plot, but not much beyond that. All I know is that you guys deserve a nice look at their lives post-angst, and that’s what I’m going to try to deliver! I can’t make any promises on when it will arrive though, because I am the slowest of the slow when it comes to writing anything. Please be patient.


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